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“It’s Liam,” I said, turning my phone off and placing it on the coffee table.
Brandi squealed excitedly and grabbed my phone. “What’d he say! What’d he say! I want to see. Ohh, he texted you already. How long has it been?”
“A day,” I answered.
“Aren’t you going to respond to him?”
“After we finished talking, maybe.”
“We did finish talking,” Brandi insisted. “Go on, answer him! He’s probably going to ask you out.
Me: Hey there Liam, I remember you. How’s it going?
Liam: It’s going great! Just got off a shift at the station and thought I’d text you. I know you’re supposed to wait a few days before contacting someone, but I don’t know how long you’re in town, so I didn’t want to play any of those dumb games. You want to get dinner with me tonight?
Me: Ah, sorry, but I’ve got plans with my sister tonight. We’re eating pizza and getting wine drunk.
“Don’t use me as an excuse!” Brandi said. “Go out with him.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere tonight. I just want to relax.” Before I could argue more, Liam had responded.
Liam: Ah, no worries, I like that vibe. Don’t blame you after all the excitement you’ve had in the past day. How about tomorrow night? There’s a chill bar right on the beach that opened up last year. It’s kind of my favorite place. Fresh fish and cheap drinks.
After Brandi read the text, I closed my phone and put it in my pocket where she couldn’t steal it.
“What?” Brandi asked. “You don’t want to go out with him?”
“I’m flattered to be asked, but no, I don’t really want to go out. We’ve got too much going on with all of our mother’s affairs to handle. And before you tell me that I’ll have plenty of free time at night, I was thinking of trying to book a few photography sessions. I need the money.”
“I think,” Brandi said while popping open a bag of chips, “that you’re still crushing on Jack.”
I blinked. “Jack? Jack Franco?”
“What other Jack would I be talking about? Yes, Jack Franco. Stop stalling. Admit it: you still have a thing for him. And that thing is in your pants.”
I laughed and took the bag of chips from her. “I really don’t want to talk about Jack.”
“Because you’re suppressing your latent feelings for him.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “You’re wrong.”
“I saw the way you looked at him earlier.”
“Because he was shirtless!” I bit into a chip. “I may hate the man, but I’m not blind. He’s ripped.”
“Come on,” Brandi insisted, leaning forward. “You always had a crush on him.”
“I did not!”
She gave me a look that said I know you. “Alyssa. It’s me. You can’t lie to me.”
“My feelings for Jack were… complicated,” I admitted. “But that was almost a decade ago.”
“Eight years.”
“Which is almost a decade.”
“Eight is not almost ten,” she countered.
