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“Lucas!” Rosie called, running to my side. “Oh my God!”
Wincing but regaining my step quickly, I tried to play it off as nothing, but Rosie was already holding the other side of the box.
There was no point in denying anything, so I repeated my words from that first night, “Good catch, Rosie.” I pointed to the left with my head, and added, “Let’s place it there, beside the TV stand. I think there’s a free plug.”
As instructed, we moved, together, and set it down on the floor.
Rosie took a step back but didn’t go too far.
Throwing the box open under her rapt interest, I extracted the object I had made sure to leave with Adele so Rosie wouldn’t catch on.
“Oh,” I heard Rosie say softly.“Oh.”
I looked up at her, taking notice of how her lips were forming a littleO.
“It looks a little beat,” I admitted after a moment. “But the lady that sold it to me swore that it works.”
“You bought this?” she asked. “For m— For the experiment?”
“Of course.” Plugging the old record player into the outlet, I straightened and took a step back to admire my acquisition. “It was fate, really. I was walking around and found this woman selling a bunch of stuff from her basement, right there on the doorstep. I got it for only a few bucks and a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
I snatched the ABBA record from the coffee table, where Rosie must have left it to help me carry the box. “She needed help moving a dresser.” One that the woman had forgotten to mention weighed like a motherfucker.
Rosie let out a strange noise. “You went into a stranger’s house? Just because she asked you for a favor?”
Shrugging a shoulder, I kneeled in front of the player. “It was actually her basement.”
She audibly gasped. “Lucas. You can’t… You can’t do that kind of stuff.”
I placed the vinyl on the plate. “Why not? She asked me to help her. And I was getting a record player in exchange.”
“What if… What if she was just luring you inside? To axe murder you. Or sell your organs. This is New York, Lucas. The ratio ofcrazy people per square foot is too high to do that. Especially if the wordbasementis thrown around.”
“Cute,” I said, and she just blinked.
But itwascute that she’d get worked up over the possibility of me being murdered.
“All right, Rosalyn Graham.” I stepped closer to her, and she tilted her head back. “Shoes off.”
“What?” she mumbled.“Why?”
“Because we can’t dance with you in those sexy heels without bothering the downstairs neighbors.”
Her eyes widened, as if I’d said something crazy. “Dance—We’re dancing?”
I pulled off my shoes. “Of course.” I kneeled back down and toggled with the few settings the player had. “I told you you’d be picking up our soundtrack. And that’s what a soundtrack is for. Dancing.”
Rosie looked at me like I was asking her to sprout wings and fly.
I tilted my head to the side. “Should I help you with those shoes?” I offered. “I can do that if you really, really need me to.” And I’d do it gladly, in all honesty. Those shoes had been driving me a little crazy ever since she’d put them on.
Her mouth bobbed a couple of times, not emitting any sound.
Only when I took a step in her direction did she seem to snap out of it. In a few seconds, the pair of blue heels was behind her, and her toes were peeking out from under the hem of her jeans. And what a pair of jeans. I hadn’t been lying when I told her they were my favorite, too. They definitely were when they hugged her—
Lucas, I told myself.Focus.
