Life In Reverse(94)

“Where are we going?” she asks, her warm palm in mine making me realize how much I missed this—f*cking hand holding is underrated. “Vance?”

“Huh?”

She laughs, bending her head to catch my eyes. “I asked where we’re going.”

“You’ll see when we get there,” I retort. Her cheeks fill up and she looks like a pufferfish. “You trust me, right?”

Her hesitation makes me think maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Until she surprises me with her answer. “I do.” Relief leaves my chest in a rush as we walk for a while, blanketed by conversation and periods of comfortable silence.

“How do you like living here?”

She breathes out a sigh. “I like it a lot. But at first it was hard for me to adjust. Everything was so big and in your face, and I found myself missing Oregon. But not Avery.” She laughs. “I swear the moment we got here she got down and kissed the ground. It’s like she knew she belonged here or something.” She glances up at the lights of a plane flying overhead. “I love it here now, though. The energy became addictive.” Her gaze travels down to mine. “What about you?”

“I like it. It definitely took a while for me and Chris to get our bearings and figure things out. But everything is going well for us. Plus there’s the band which I love and….” I stop myself from what I really want to say—that being with her makes it feel like home. “Yeah, it’s good.”

“How’s Julian? You know after you left I went to him, hoping he knew where you were.” Her voice lowers. “But he didn’t.” The topic makes me cringe, but I’m not going to shy away from it. I’m willing to take full responsibility for being an *. “Anyway,” she goes on, her tone more upbeat. “Shortly after that I popped by to see him and your dad said he left for California.” I shrug off the guilt of leaving Julian behind, too. Although he told me there was nothing to forgive and we’ve moved past it.

“He’s great. And yeah, he’s in Southern California. He works at a sports marketing firm there and he’s a real surfer boy now.” I shake my head and toss in an eye roll. “I’ve been out to visit him a few times since he moved.”

“What’s the look for?”

I smirk. “California was definitely made for him. The girls follow him around like he’s some kind of Greek God.”

“I can totally see that.” She chews on her bottom lip. “What about you?”

“What about me, what?”

When she senses my confusion, she spells it out. “Any… girls?”

“Nah.” I stare straight ahead now. “There’s only ever been one girl for me.”

“Really?” she challenges, her voice teetering on the edge of a smile.

“Yup.” I pop the P for emphasis. “Not sure if she’s interested, though. Too soon to tell.”

“Hmph” is all she offers, her eyes like flames on the side of my face. “She’s pretty stupid if she’s not,” she adds, looking away from me as I glance over, trying to hide the grin bursting from the corner of her lips.

“She doesn’t strike me as the stupid type,” I throw in for good measure and she laughs. Tugging on her hand, I pull her closer then come to a stop. “Here we are.”

Bright eyes climb to a sign that says SPIN New York. To the left is the word Ping in white block lettering. I hold the glass door open and Ember walks in, her face contorting in amusement as she reads the billboard: “I got 99 problems but ping-pong ain’t one,” and then, “If you’re having pong problems I feel bad for you son.” She turns to me. “Ping-pong?”

“Yup.”

A contented sound leaves her throat and she smiles. “Cool.”

A hostess greets us as Ember takes in the vast space and the first of two floors, more reminiscent of a night club than a sports club. However, as we head down to the basement, the atmosphere shifts. Twenty ping-pong courts are set up strategically in what looks like a large gym flanked by a bar and comfortable seating. Lights hang above us in frosted blues and whites, a variety of pinks, giving it a glow-in-the-dark appearance.

I put our name in for a table. Given it’s not as crowded on a weeknight, we don’t have to wait long. Another hostess leads us to a dimly lit corner where muted red couches surround a black ping-pong table. Tiny bulbs above colorful paintings on the wall provide the only source of light.

“I can’t wait to whip your ass,” Ember declares out of the blue, startling me. The way she says ass turns me the f*ck on.

My brow rises a notch. “Taken to swearing, have we? Must be feeling pretty confident.”

She cocks her hip against the side of the table, a smirk forming on her lips. “I am.”

“I wouldn’t get too confident there, sweetheart. If I remember correctly, your pool skills left a lot to be desired.” I remind her with a smug grin. “Come to think of it. They sucked.”

Ember’s eyes are saucer wide, that pretty mouth hanging open. “You’re in so much trouble,” she counters, picking up the racket like she wants to take all her aggression out on me.

God, I f*cking hope so.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Determined, she holds the wooden paddle tight in her hand and glares at me. “Ready?”