Page 106 of Gave Proof Through the Night

Paige gestures to every single one of our luxury shopping bags and bespoke leather garment bags. “Big mistake.” She pauses dramatically, channeling her inner Julia Roberts. “Huge.”

And then we’re all giggling, six grown women sprinting out of a luxury boutique in broad daylight. By the time we spill onto the sidewalk, I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe, bags swinging, heels clicking against pavement, and somewhere behind me I hear Paige, breathless, delighted, confess to no one in particular.

“I have always wanted to do that.”

22

JEREMIAH

Chapter playlist:

Bullet the Blue Sky — U2

The iced matcha sweats in my hand before I’m even out the door of the Coffee Loft. That’s the heat I’m dealing with, walking out into a DC morning that’s already going on ninety degrees.

I’m a different man today than three weeks ago when Erica backed into me at the specials board, causing me to spill my drink on my shirt. I wish she were here with me now so we can laugh about it. Without her, the whole block feels like it’s missing a sound effect.

I wanted time with her today. I’ll admit it. But she said she’d be busy all day with gala prep and not to disturb her. Something about her friends wanting to pamper her, getting a manicure and a blowout, whatever the heck that is.

I suppose some rest would do me good today anyway. I can’t very well monopolize every hour of this woman’s life. Okay, I do want to monopolize every hour of this woman’s life. Sue me.

So I got my matcha. Solo.

Yesterday, we’d gotten ice cream and walked it down to the waterfront. Hers was gone before we’d made it half a block, because the woman inhales ice cream like it’s about to be repossessed. Mine was still mostly intact when we reached the fountain because I have some self-respect. Then she’d asked me, apropos of nothing, what kind of dog I’d get if I could get one.

“Black lab,” I said. “Or a Great Dane.”

She’d gone very still, squinting like I was a math problem that refused to add up. “Huh.”

“What.”

"I had you pegged as a Chihuahua man."

“Excuse me?”

“Small, high-strung, technically a dog.” She’d shrugged, entirely unbothered by how insulting that was. “But now that I know you better… yeah. Checks out. Big, loyal, follows you around. Protective.”

Then she’d just reached over without asking and helped herself to the rest of my cone. I just let it happen. I don’t know what that says about me.

As the lazy morning turned into a lazy afternoon, I’d asked her about her dress. I knew she’d gone shopping, and I was curious. I framed it in such a way so it was more about us matching, like if she was going to wear red, I’d wear a red pocket square, for example. She saw right through my plan and told me her lips were sealed.

Then I kissed those lips and said, “Not even a hint?”

“No.”

“An itty-bitty one?”

“Spoilers.”

I will have to let my imagination do the work until I see her tomorrow night. This is torture.

I finish the matcha with one last slurp through the straw and toss the cup in a bin outside the corner store. I go in for my gum and I’m at the rack thumbing through packs when it hits me that I’ve stood in this exact spot before with a fistful of gum. Erica had breezed past me with a coffee, giving me a nod before disappearing through the door.

I hadn’t even known her name yet. It feels like a different lifetime already.

The conversation from yesterday springs forward. We were hand in hand, taking our time before I had to drop her off at the Airbnb. Neither one of us seemed to be in a hurry to get there.

And I’d said, “You know, I spent all this time thinking you lived in DC, and it never once occurred to me to ask where you actually live.”