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“Happy birthday, brother.” Sutton extends his hand to Remi as Aspen steps back.
“Thanks for coming.” They shake hands.
“Don’t get too drunk,” he tells him.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He snorts, turning toward me. “I’ll call you?” He phrases it like a question.
“Not sure how, considering you don’t have my number.”
“Says who?” He takes my hand and kisses the back of my knuckles. “It’s been an absolute fucking pleasure, Ms. Sharp.” His eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles.
“Okay, maybe we should go before he makes a bigger ass of himself than he probably already has.” Sutton chuckles, dropping his arm around Aspen’s shoulder as they turn.
“Hey, I heard that,” Remi calls after his brother, his gaze drifting back to me after a brief moment.
“Bye, Remi.” I give him a little wave before turning, each step I take away from him feeling heavier than the last, like my body rejects the very idea of leaving him.
The car ride home is quiet, Sutton and Aspen speaking softly in the front seat while I watch the city drift farther and farther away.
I try not to let myself think too much about what happened tonight. About the things he said. About the kiss that, try as I may, I can’t bring myself to regret. But Remi is the absolute only thing I think about the entire drive home.
Hell, I’m still thinking about him thirty minutes later when I unlock the front door of my aunt’s house and push my way inside.
A part of me wishes she were still up so I could tell her everything that happened tonight, but the other part of me is glad she isn’t because I know she would see right through me and make me face things I still haven’t fully accepted.
Like how I feel completely upside down over a man I hardly know. Or how, for the first time since Mom died, I don’t feel cemented to the ground in guilt.
I don’t have much time to overthink why that is because I’ve no more than stepped over the threshold when my phone pings with an incoming text message.
I damn near drop my bag trying to dig it out, not able to think of a single person who would text me this late except for one... And when I have my phone in my hand, seeing an unknown number on the screen, I know one thing to be true above all else.
I am in some serious trouble.
“So Remi tells me youtwo are going out Friday night.” Aspen appears in my doorway just as I’m closing out of my email, preparing to leave for the day.
I was hoping maybe I could avoid this conversation altogether, considering she only works today this week, but clearly, that didn’t pan out for me. Not that I’m embarrassed about my upcoming date or anything. I’m not. It’s just... Well, it’s weird. Because she’s Remi’s best friend, I don’t know what I can or cannot say to her.
Like I don’t think I could tell her that I’m actually kind of terrified to be alone with him. Or that I’ve thought about backing out every second since I agreed. And not because I don’t like him, but because I do.
Truth be told, I’ve honestly been waiting for him to back out, considering he hasn’t texted me again since Saturday night. We left it at agreeing to dinner on Friday and I haven’t heard from him since. I was kind of thinking maybe he was having second thoughts and just didn’t know how to tell me. He was drunk when he asked me, and well, I wasn’t exactly sober when I agreed.
“It’s just dinner.” I do my best to downplay it.
If he told Aspen, then I doubt he has plans to back out. You don’t go around announcing things you have no intention of doing. At least, not in my experience.
So, then, I guess we are actually doing this. Then again, it’s just dinner, nothing to get too worked up about. But something tells me with a man like Remi, it’s neverjustsomething. Not that he expects more from me, per se. At least, I hope he doesn’t. I’m not the kind of girl who sleeps with someone on their first date. Not that I’ve really had many first dates. In fact, I guess I’ve only officially had one, and that was Blake. But I didn’t sleep with him that night, and I have no intention of sleeping with Remi either. At least not yet... My insides warm at the thought.
So yeah, he said some things on Saturday when he was drunk that had me all tangled in knots. And yes, I’ve replayed those words like a broken record on repeat every day since. But that doesn’t mean all logical thought just goes out the window either. I’ve always prided myself on having a good head on my shoulders, and I have no intention of letting that change.
“Sure it is.” She gives me a knowing smile like she can see right through me. It’s unnerving, and I briefly wonder if I’m more transparent than I realize. “I knew you two would hit it off.” Her smile widens further, like she couldn’t be more happy about this fact.
“He’s rather charming, I’ll admit.”
“That he is.” She’s quick to agree. “You’ve made quite the impression on him.”
“Did he say something to you?” I try to keep my tone neutral, but I’m not sure how successful I am.
I don’t know why, but the thought of him talking about me to someone else sends a wave of excitement spreading through my limbs. That’s not true. I know exactly why.
