“Fine, I’ll tell my mother I want a corset in my Easter basket,” she says, smiling.
“God, I want to go to Easter at your house this year.”
She shakes her head. “You really don’t. My mom’s house is beautiful, and the catered dinner is delicious, but trust me, it’s not worth the price of admission.”
“Fair,” I tell her. “You should come to farm country with me then, assuming I have enough time off to get there and back.”
“Ooh, I could do a farmboy for Easter.”
Oh, shit. I’m not going down this road. “On second thought, I’ll be swamped that week. We should stay here.”
We join our friends and finish our drinks. Soon, we make our way onto the dance floor. I’m not a great dancer, but I can hold my own. There’s a freedom to be found out here. I can let myself go, get lost in the music. I’m always exhausted after a night out, but in the very best way. And I’m rejuvenated too. Dancing clears my head like nothing else can.
I’m sweaty and thirsty, so I break from the group long enough to step up to the bar and order a water for me and another IPA.
Since I’m taking a breather, I scroll through my phone. PJ sent a cute pic of Polly, Russ, andFelix, my niece and nephews. I give it a heart and tell him to give those kids a hug from their favorite uncle. Damn. I really need to get home.
I’ve also got a text from my mom, telling me to check my mail for a care package in the next couple days.
But there’s also a text from Booker. I bit the bullet and sent a quick Happy Birthday! text this morning. I figured it would be rude not to acknowledge the man’s birthday, considering we spent last night together. Ok, that sounds bad (good?) even in my head. Anyway, I sent a text and he replied.
Booker: Thanks. And thanks for last night. That was more fun than I’ve had in a really long time (don’t tell Whit). We’ve gotta take him to that place. He’d freaking love it.
This is me, not squeeing at a bar. This is me, not reading way too much into the word “we”. This is me, texting back like a total normal person.
Ian: Glad you had fun. Hope you don’t have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.
Before I can hit send, I backspace over all of it and start from scratch.
Ian: Anytime. Have fun tonight. But be safe.
Nope. I delete that one, too, and try again.
Ian: Yeah, definitely.
“That’s the best you’ve got? A hot guy basically asks you out and you’re gonna respond with ‘Yeah, definitely’? Oh, honey.” Mel’s voice is a mix between pity and annoyance.
“Jesus,” I mutter, turning around. “Where did you come from?”
“Uh, the dance floor? Ok, he’s asked you out. How are we responding? Also, you never told me you hung out with him last night.”
“Sorry I didn’t give you a report of my last twenty-four hours. And to be clear, he isnotasking me out. He was stressed last night, and today’s his birthday and I saw him at the coffee shop. Anyway, I took him to Little John’s to get pizza and play in the arcade. It was fun. That was it. Not a date, at all.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
“I’m serious. We’re friends. Don’t read too much into it.”
“Yeah,” she shrugs, “like you haven’t already.”
“Regardless, he’s my student. Kind of. The point is, I’m in a quasi-position of power where his grade is concerned and I’m not going anywhere near that landmine. No judgment—”
Mel waves me off. “Judge away. Chaz is on my shit list right now. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough. But I’m here if and when you need me,” I tell her, taking a sip of my drink. I’m curious as hell about what’s going on with Mel and Professor Asshole, but I’m not going to pry. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
Mel takes the stool next to mine and orders another drink. “The thing is, Ian, he won’t be a student in Hannah’s class forever. You’ve got what, just over two months left? I’m impatient as fuck and even I know that’s not an eternity. Just hang on until then, but don’t shut this shit down. Just play it cool. You’re a catch, Ian, and you’re worth the wait.”
I roll my eyes. “Just help me figure out what to send without sounding like I’m trying too hard, or whatever. We’re going for totally casual friend. Think you can handle that?”
