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Alice
Sissy, you’re going, right?
Max
Of course she’s going.
Right, El?
Elora Rhodes, so help me. You answer this phone right now.
Dammit, Elly. You don’t pass up the opportunity to see the Queen beside tall, dark, and freakishly compassionate.
Alice
Sissy?
When I finally remembered how to lift my jaw off the marble floor, I’d stammered a measly, “What?”
“I distinctly remember one too many Rhodes sisters’ renditions of Teardrops on my Guitar, and rants about her empowerment of women, ongoing charitable contributions, Guinness World Records set, and some nonsense about her funding music schools?—”
“Music departments in colleges,” I cut in before my mouth fell open again, fingers lamely coming to settle against my lips as nerves rode bulls inside my stomach.
Broderick didn’t miss a beat, even as the corner of his lips quirked, he continued, “Along with some briefly fixated and then forgotten goal to get her on your show. Or has your infatuation changed, and I’m totally off base?”
Jaw cracking shut, I shook my head, unable to suppress my smile. “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.” Did the man have a single clue what that slow, sexy smile did to me? The rare show of confidence? I was equal parts transfixed and terrified because even the suggestion was making me feel the things I wasn’t prepared to be feeling for the same guy that rejected me…twice.
Dammit, this was dangerous territory.
Was this a friend thing? A bonus little sister thing? Or…as significant a gesture as it felt? If I accepted, I was setting myself up to get my heart smashed again when we went our separate ways—him back to my big brother in Mistyvale, and me onto my next adventure—and not even my comfort music would peel me off the bathroom floor this time, because even her new albums would remind me of him.
Cautiously, I clarified, “Tonight?”
“Seven pm,” he confirmed with a sheepish little smile and nod, bringing a palm to tug on the back of his neck.
“On the strip.” He’d chuckled as I echoed back the pieces of information he’d hurled at me with the stumbling finesse of a semi-truck descending stairs. My fingers were suddenly ice cold where they settled on my lips, which were still sticky with stain. I watched that little spark in his eyes, body remembering what he felt like against mine in that tiny bed this morning. When he lifted his gaze and slipped that hand into his front pocket, rocking on his heels, I saw something in him that hadn’t been there before. He leaned in and for the briefest inhalation, I thought he was going to kiss me, right there in the hallway as attendees rushed by us in a river of chatter. But he gently tucked my hair behind my ear, stealing my breath as he grinned down at me.
“Go make your pro-con list. I’ll be by the room at six. Be ready if we’re going, or I’ll be making some strangers on the strip very happy with these,” he waved his cell phone, where the digital tickets were still proudly displayed on the screen.
With that, the man melded into the flow of passersby, and I was left standing, gaping like an idiot as I attempted to process what the hell just happened, and all of the—if there were any—implications.
Hair curled and sprayed, makeup set, I took one last fragrance-tainted breath, and grabbed my phone from its incessant buzz on the counter.
Elora
What does this mean? To him, I mean. Am I making something out of nothing?
Max
It means that your sexy nighties were hotter than intended?
Alice
*eye roll emoji* Jesus, Max.
Max
