Sweet Nothing(17)

He didn’t hesitate. “You like me.”

“False.”

“Bullshit.” His eyebrow rose as he tipped the beer bottle to his lips.

“That certainly falls in line with your initial belief that I’m addicted to unrequited love.”

“You’re in love with him?” He didn’t try to hide the disgust in his tone.

“No. That’s not what I said. At all.”

“Then stop staring at him,” he said.

I blinked, realizing I was watching the doctor again. “I wasn’t. I was … I’m watching Michaels.”

“Because she’s with the doctor, and you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m revolted. I might have a tiny crush on him,” I said, watching Josh squirm at my confession, “but I would never act on it. Michaels would.”

Josh observed Michaels for nearly a minute before he made a judgment. “Yeah, she would. But Rosey is a big boy. You can’t make his decisions for him.”

“He would never,” I said. “He loves his wife.”

“Then why isn’t he at home with her right now? Even husbands who love their wives cheat. Men are animals, Avery. All it takes is f*cking the same woman for seven years and a little extra attention from the right barely legal blonde.”

I sneered. “Maybe for you.” I looked at Dr. Rosenberg with a new respect. “But not him. He’s one of the good ones.”

“Get a few shots in him and see if that’s the case. He’s only human.”

The multi-colored lights flashed over the bar, highlighting Deb giggling and pawing at Quinn. I hadn’t even noticed she’d left the love seat. Corner Hole was packed. The ten-by-ten wooden dance floor was shoulder to shoulder, couples were laughing and kissing, meeting for the first time and falling in love, and sitting next to me was my knight in shining armor, advocating adultery. I peered into my longneck bottle, wondering if maybe he was just a cynic in a tinfoil hat.

My eyebrows pulled in. “Not every man shares your lack of morality.”

He balked, almost offended. “I have never cheated.”

I shot him a dubious look. “Because you’ve never been in a relationship.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t commit to someone if I wasn’t ready. That’s much different from those who are willing to leap but still stray.”

I put down my beer. “I did … like you. For about two seconds. Then you started talking.”

Josh put down his beer, too, only more determined. “That’s because you’re not listening. You’re the type of chick—”

I glared at him and he rephrased.

“You’re the kind of woman who listens to reply, not to understand. But I can’t fault you for that. I’ve come to learn that is the way most women are. It’s in your genes or something.”

“In my genes?”

“You know …” Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. “If you let me into your jeans, maybe I could get to know you better?”

I burst out laughing, and Josh’s arrogant smirk faded. “Does that usually work for you?” I tried to make eye contact with Deb, hoping she’d be ready to leave, but she was turning out to be an awful wingman.

“Dance with me,” Josh said.

I looked at him, waiting for him to admit he was joking, but he was serious. For once, I didn’t have a witty retort. He stood and then held out his hand.

“We can’t dance to this,” I said, referring to the band’s cover of Ellie Goulding’s Halcyon.

Josh looked at the lead singer and put his thumb and middle finger in his mouth, filling his lungs and then blowing a loud whistle that cut through all the loud talking and music. He pointed to me, the singer nodded to her band, and the music transitioned seamlessly into a slower song.

“You know her?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I know everyone.”

I stood, following him to the dance floor. He slid his arm around my lower back, his fingers pressing against the thin fabric of my blouse. The heat from his hand warmed my skin as he pressed me against him. His other hand gently enveloped mine, dwarfing it in his palm, and he began to sway slowly to the beat. As she began to sing the opening lines to At Last by Etta James, I relaxed into him.

“I like this song,” I said just as Josh touched his cheek to my temple.

“Good, because it’s our song.”

I smiled. “It is?”

“It is now.”

I looked up at him, not wanting to let go of this Josh, who looked at me like he was searching for forgiveness and I was the only woman who could give it to him. “If you were like this all the time, I could like you.”

“Same.”

I pressed my lips tighter, trying to suppress a smile.

He opened his mouth but hesitated.

“What?” I asked. When he shook his head, I prompted him again. “Oh, c’mon. Be brave.”

He sighed, and then he turned his head an infinitesimal amount, just enough that the side of his lips brushed my skin as he spoke. My eyes fell closed at the simple touch.

“I was just thinking … we could just make it easy on each other and play nice.”

I leaned back to scan his face, noting the tiny bit of vulnerability behind his eyes. “You first,” I said, dubious.