Page 7 of Unlikely

I glance back at my savior, taking in her patient expression. She’s so at ease, waiting and watching, and I don’t want to leave that just yet. I just don’t really know why I want to stay either. She’s interested in me, that much is clear, and I don’t know if my interest in her is quite the same, but it’s enough for me to let myself enjoy the moment.

She expects nothing of me, and that means everything.

“I’m going to stay,” I tell Nina while openly admiring the woman in front of me. “I think I’m going to see where the night takes me.”

2

CLEM

Our lips curl into matching smiles as I repeat her earlier sentiment back to her. Nina isn’t one for questions, and I’m grateful she’s a little too mesmerized with Nick to pay me any mind, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t still protective of me.

“You make sure you call me if you need anything,” she says. “I’ll come right back.”

Nodding, I reach for her credit card and hand it to her. Shaking her head, she returns it to my back pocket, and the woman raises an eyebrow at me with a knowing smirk, reading my mind and taking us both back to that earlier moment.

“Keep it for emergencies,” she says into my ear. “And call me tomorrow.”

Nina then plasters an exaggerated kiss on my cheek before leaning over and whispering something into the woman’s ear.

Her head tilts to the side as my best friend looks at me mischievously. “Have a good night.”

I watch Nina retreat down the stairs as the bartender reaches us and tips his chin in our direction. “What can I get you both to drink?”

“We’ll take two shots of tequila for the birthday girl, please.”

“She told you it was my birthday,” I shout.

She nods as the bartender slams the two shot glasses on the bar and pours the alcohol till it’s spilling over the sides, adding a slice of lemon on each rim.

One hand holding the lemon, the other holding the drinks, we raise them in the air.

“The only thing I don’t know yet is your name,” she says.

“It’s Clementine,” I reply, probably a little too softly, feeling vulnerable at telling her my full name. I hate the name as much as I love it, usually preferring for people to call me Clem, but tonight I don’t really feel like Clem. I feel like a version of myself that I didn’t even know I could be.

Spontaneous.

Light.

Free.

She clinks her glass against mine. “Happy Birthday, Clementine.”

My eyes remain locked on hers as we both down the liquid. It scorches my throat as it slides along, that little reminder of just how little alcohol I usually drink. I quickly slip the slice of lemon between my teeth and let the sour taste soothe the burn.

“Not a fan?” she asks.

I try to school my features, but I fail, and this has us both laughing. “I don’t drink much,” I confide. “I kind of only save it for special occasions.”

“I would say a birthday is a special occasion.”

Feeling bold, I lean toward her. “You know what I’d like for my birthday?”

“Hopefully, something I can give you,” she says, the slightest hint of seduction in her tone.

“Your name.”

Her smile widens, small dimples forming on either side. “Easiest gift I’ve ever given,” she says. “I’m Zara.”

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