Speakeasy (True North #5)(47)
Selena: When you and I dance, it’s never out of pity.
May: That’s true NOW.
Selena: Fine. At the wedding I asked you to dance for a different reason.
May: Is it because I had on the same dress as four other women and you got confused?
Selena: No. It’s because it let me cut in on my sister’s boyfriend and I don’t like him.
May: He is a very good dancer, though. Like, ninja level.
Selena: So you’re saying it’s really you who got punished when I asked you to dance?
May: :)
Selena: My apologies.
May: I’m over it. But did you notice you just said: I don’t like my sister’s boyfriend. You meant you didn’t USED to like him, right? You must like him okay by now.
Selena: He got my sister pregnant.
May: And she seems pretty happy about that. Also, he’s a good dad who is giving up his career in a few months to be with them.
Selena: None of that really matters because he got my sister pregnant and I will never get over it.
May: Never?
Selena: Probably not. No.
May: Way to hold a grudge.
Selena: It’s built in to a guy’s DNA.
May: What else is built in to your DNA.
Selena: This.
[Insert a suggestive photo of Alec unzipping his fly.]
May: That is just mean. I can’t see you tonight. But now I want to.
Selena: You can’t? Whines
May: Sorry.
Selena: Pouts
May: I can’t disappear every night. Besides I need my sleep.
Selena: A horse walks into a bar. The bartender says, "So. Why the long face?"
May: Good night, Selena.
Selena: Good night, babydoll.
Chapter Eighteen
Alec
When I open the front door to my sister’s house, the first thing I see is a giant bouquet of shiny balloons in pink and blue. Oof. I can’t believe I’m skipping out on part of a Saturday bartending shift to attend a fucking baby shower.
So this is what it’s like to get old.
As I wipe my feet on the doormat, I survey the scene. Zara’s living room is full of people, most of them familiar. But everyone has either a pink or blue clothespin stuck on his shirt, as if it’s some hot new accessory item.
My first thought is—How soon can I leave?
But then I scan the room, and my consciousness snags on a group of people near Zara’s fireplace. I glimpse only the back of May’s head. But that’s enough, it seems. The urge to leave just vanishes. And when the bodies between us shift, I can see that she’s wearing a sweater dress that clings in all the right places. I’m suddenly very sorry that I insisted on closing my bar tonight. I’d rather spend the night with May.
It’s not just attraction, though. She hasn’t even spotted me, but I feel a different kind of connection to her than I’m used to. As if she’s my person, and I’m hers.
I’ve never had a person before. Maybe this is what all the songs on the radio are about.
It’s nothing I know how to express, though. And I don’t think May would want to hear it right now. So when I pull out my phone and shoot off a text, I say something ordinary. Selena thinks you look hawt tonight. Three snaps at least.
After hitting send, I make myself look away from her. I head over to greet the expectant couple. Audrey looks very round and very happy. I kiss her smiling cheek and then shake Griffin’s hand. “You’re looking awfully relaxed for a guy who isn’t going to sleep much in the next year.”
“I don’t sleep now,” he points out. “A guy with cows is used to getting up early.”
“Fair enough.” I hand the gift bag I’m holding to his glowing wife.
“Ooh!” she says. “What did you bring the baby?”
“Baby clothes. Honestly, I have no idea. My mother picked it out.”
They both roar. “Honest Alec,” Audrey says, wiping her eyes. “That’s what Zara calls you.”
“That’s the nicest thing Zara has ever called me,” I point out, and they laugh again. Although it’s true. I’m honest to a fault. My role in our family is the forgotten middle child. I never had anything to fear from honesty because nobody was ever paying attention to me, anyway.
Speaking of my family, I spy my sister arranging trays of food on her dining table in the next room. Now we’re talking. “Looks like my sister did some cooking. Can I bring you guys anything?”
“I’ll make us a plate,” Griff says to his wife. And then he follows me into the dining room, where I greet Zara with a pony-tail tug. Then I grab a mini quiche off a plate and shove it in my mouth.
“Alec! You showed!”
“I heard there was food,” I say through a mouthful.
“Classy,” my sister complains.
“You know it. How come everyone’s wearing one of those…” I gesture at a jar of those weird clothespins. “Except for you, Z.”
“Oh, I lost mine already. It’s a game. If someone catches you saying the word baby, they get your pin. The person who collects the most wins.”
“That’s it? So easy. I never use that word.”
She smirks as she reaches for a blue pin, then affixes it to my shirt pocket. “Sure you do. ‘Hey baby want to come upstairs and see my hot tub?’”