Page 29 of See You Next Tuesday

“No, it’s okay.” Gabe ran a hand through his hair. “I, you know, I would have to say that no, I’m not a real relationship kind of guy.”

Anya laughed, one of those good deep belly laughs. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because you always think the worst of me?” Gabe grinned.

“That’s not true!” Anya argued, and Gabe raised his eyebrows. “Okay, fine, it’s a little true.”

“I bet you’re a relationship girl though, right?”

“Oh yeah, because I’m so easy to be around and deferential toward men—they love that about me,” Anya joked.

“What kind of idiot wants a girl to defer to him all the time?”

“Um, are you kidding?” Anya laughed. “All of them! I mean no, not all of them, I’ve dated a couple of really nice guys—but then they always want to defer to me.”

“And you don’t like that?!” Gabe was incredulous.

“Why, because you think I get off on bossing people around?” Anya said without thinking, but the mood shifted instantly. It felt dangerous, throwing his words back at him in a very different context. He leaned in, his eyes locked on her.

“Well,” he said. “Do you?”

“I mean…” Anya’s breath was shallow. “I like to get my way—at work. You know what our jobs are like, I spend all day making decisions. When I’m with a guy, it’s like, do I have to make all the decisions here too?”

“Interesting.” Gabe leaned back, considering her.

“What?” she asked, instinctively pushing her hair out of her face.

“It’s not what I would have imagined,” he said. “I like it.”

“What do you like?” she asked.

“When you surprise me.”

She didn’t know how to respond, so she took another sip of her drink.

“Come on then,” he said, getting up out of his chair.

“Come on where?” She was confused.

“Dance with me.”

He held out his hand, and she was so shocked she didn’t even really think about it as she let him lead her to the makeshift dance floor. His hand was so much bigger than hers; she could kind of disappear into it.

The dance floor was on the beach itself, so they kicked off their flip-flops and joined the others, including most of their group from the house. The breeze was soft and cool, and the music was loud and great—a mix of salsa, R&B, and old seventies dance hits. When they got to the floor, ABBA was blaring, and Gabe and Anya joined Kira, Simone, Jill, and Laurel as they all let loose their inner dancing queens. Anya was delighted that Gabe got just as into it as the rest of them, belting the lyrics and twirling Jill dramatically.

The song faded right into the next one—Lauryn Hill’s cover of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You.”

“Yes!” Anya shouted. “I love this song!”

“You do, huh?” Gabe was grinning at her.

“Lauryn Hill is completely prophetic.”

“Completely,” Gabe agreed—and then he was pulling Anya closer, swaying to the music, his hands resting on her hips.

“Oh,” she breathed, unsteady on her feet, though whether that was from the alcohol or the blood currently whooshing straight to her head, she couldn’t say.

“You okay?” he asked.