Josh hadn’t looked at Wrap Dress since he showed up, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was too busy chatting and laughing with the bartender.
“I assure you, of all the things on my to-do list, worrying about your love life isn’t even in the top five thousand.” Despite the snark, Josh continued staring at me with that indecipherable expression.
My stomach swooped for no obvious reason.
“Good.” It was a lame retort, but my brain wasn’t working properly. I blamed it on the exhaustion. Or the alcohol. Or a million other things that had nothing to do with the man standing in front of me.
I grabbed my coat and slid off my seat, intent on brushing past him without another word.
Unfortunately, I’d misjudged the distance between the bar stool rung and the floor. My foot slipped, and a small gasp rose in my throat when my body tilted backward of its own accord. I was two seconds away from falling on my ass when a hand shot out and gripped my wrist, pulling me back up into a standing position.
Josh and I froze at the same time, our eyes locked on where his hand encircled my wrist. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d voluntarily touched. Maybe three summers ago, when he’d pushed me, fully clothed, into the pool during a party, and I’d retaliated by “accidentally” elbowing him in the groin?
The memory of him doubling over with pain still gave me great comfort in times of distress, but I wasn’t thinking about that now.
Instead, I was focused on how disturbingly close he was—close enough for me to smell his cologne, which was nice and citrusy instead of fire and brimstone-y like I’d expected.
The adrenaline from my near fall pumped through my system, pushing my heart rate into unhealthy territory.
“You can let go now.” I willed my breaths to come out steady despite the suffocating heat. “Before your touch gives me hives.”
Josh’s grip tightened for a millisecond before he dropped my arm like it was a hot potato. Annoyance wiped away his previously unreadable expression. “You’re welcome for making sure you don’t break your tailbone, JR.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Joshy. I would’ve caught myself.”
“Sure. God forbid the words thank you leave your mouth.” His sarcasm deepened. “You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“It’s better than being an ass, period.”
Everyone else looked at Josh and saw a handsome, charming doctor. I looked at him and saw a judgmental, self-righteous jerk.
You can make other friends, Ava. She’s bad news. You don’t need someone like that in your life.
My cheeks flushed. It’d been seven years since I overheard Josh talking to Ava about me, right when she and I were becoming friends, and the memory still stung. Not that I’d ever told them I’d heard them. It would just make Ava feel bad, and Josh didn’t deserve to know how much his words hurt.
He wasn’t the first person to think I wasn’t good enough, but he was the first to try and ruin one of my budding friendships because of it.
I flashed a brittle smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve exceeded my daily tolerance for your presence.” I slipped on my coat and gloves and readjusted my bag. “Give your date my condolences.”
Before he could respond, I pushed past him and quickened my steps until I hit the chilly March air. Only then did I allow myself to relax, though my pulse maintained its frantic speed.
Of all the people I could’ve run into at the bar, I had to run into Josh Chen. Could the day get any worse?
I could already imagine the taunts he’ll pepper me with the next time I saw him.
Remember when you got stood up, JR?
Remember when you sat at the bar for an hour by yourself like a loser?
Remember when you got all dressed up and used up the last of your favorite eyeshadow for a dude named Todd?
Okay, he didn’t know about the last two things, but I wouldn’t put it past him to find out.
I tucked my hands deeper in my pockets and turned the corner, eager to put as much distance between myself and Satan’s spawn as possible.
The Bronze Gear had been located on a lively street of restaurants, with music wafting in the air and people spilling onto the sidewalk even in wintertime. The one I was walking on now, while only one street over, was eerily quiet. Shuttered shops lined both sidewalks, and scraggly bunches of weeds sprouted from cracks in the ground. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but the lengthening shadows lent an ominous air to the surroundings.
I walked faster out of instinct, though I was distracted not only by my run-in with Josh but also the dozens of items on my to-do list. When I was alone, my worries and tasks crowded my brain like children clamoring for their parents’ attention.
Graduation, bar prep, possibly reaming Todd out over text (no, not worth it), more apartment searching online, Ava’s surprise birthday party this weekend…
Wait a minute.
Birthday. March.
I came to a dead halt.
Oh my God.
Besides Ava, I knew someone else with a birthday in early March, but…
I fished my phone out of my pocket with a shaking hand, and my stomach plummeted when I saw the date. March 2.
It was her birthday today. I completely forgot.
Tendrils of guilt squeezed my insides, and I wondered, as I did every year, whether I should call her. I never did, but…this year could be different.
I told myself that every year, too.
I shouldn’t feel guilty. She never called me on my birthday, either. Or Christmas. Or any other holiday. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Adeline in seven years.
Call. Don’t call. Call. Don’t call.
I worried my bottom lip between my teeth.
It was her forty-fifth birthday. That was a big one, right? Big enough to warrant a Happy Birthday from her daughter…if she cared about getting anything from me.
I was so busy debating myself I didn’t notice anyone approach until the hard barrel of a gun pressed against my back and a raspy voice barked out, “Give me your phone and wallet. Now.”
My heart jolted, and I almost dropped my phone. Disbelief hardened my limbs into stone.
You’vegotto be kidding me.
Never ask the universe questions you don’t want answered because it turns out the day could, in fact, get a lot fucking worse.
2
JOSH
“Don’t say it.”I cracked open my beer, ignoring Clara’s amused expression. The cute female bartender she’d been flirting with had left to deal with the happy hour rush, and she’d been watching me with a knowing smile ever since.
“Fine. I won’t.” Clara crossed her legs and took a demure sip of her drink.
She was an ER nurse at Thayer University Hospital, where I was a third-year resident specializing in Emergency Medicine, so our paths crossed often. We’d been friends since my first year of residency, when we bonded over our mutual love for action sports and cheesy nineties movies, but she had as much sexual interest in me, or any member of the male species, as she did a rock.
Clara certainly wasn’t my date, at least not in the romantic sense, but I hadn’t corrected Jules’s assumption. My personal life wasn’t any of her business. Hell, sometimes I wished it wasn’t my business.
“Good.” I caught the eye of a pretty blonde at the other end of the bar and flashed a flirtatious smile. She returned it with a suggestive one of her own.
Thiswas what I needed tonight. Alcohol, watching the Wizards game with Clara, and some harmless flirting. Anything to take my mind off the letter waiting for me at home.
Correction: letters. As in plural.
December 24. January 16. February 20. March 2. The dates of the most recent letters from Michael flashed through my mind.
I received one every month like clockwork, and I hated myself for not throwing them out the instant I saw them.
I took a long swig of my beer, trying to forget the stack of unopened mail sitting in my desk drawer. It was my second beer in less than ten minutes, but fuck it, I’d had a long day at work. I needed to take the edge off.
“I’ve always liked redheads,” Clara said, drawing me back to a conversation I didn’t want to have. “Maybe because The Little Mermaid was my favorite Disney movie growing up.”
Her face creased into a smile at my long-suffering sigh.
“Your lack of subtlety is astonishing.”
“I like to have at least one trait that’s astonishing.” Clara’s smile widened. “So, who was she?”
There was no use trying to sidestep her question. Once she sniffed out something she thought was juicy, she was worse than a Pitbull with a bone.
“My sister’s best friend and a pain in my ass.” Tension knotted my shoulders at the memory of my encounter with Jules.