Page 126 of Old Habits

“Oh, yeah.” He nods, looking around. “And just look at their faces. They think so, too.”

My eyes drift from person-to-person. A few have noticed we’re here. I expect hushed whispers and harsh expressions but they all nod at me with kindness. Every single one of them.

It’s unsettling, to say the least.

“Let’s get a drink, eh?” he asks, guiding me towards the refreshment tables. “Wait for a slow song…”

“I’m not dancing.”

“Lucky!” he says, recognizing the hive of red hair standing behind the table.

She throws on a smile for the two of us and raises her blue cup. “Evening,” she says.

Her eyes wander downward to the ring on my finger and she lifts a silent, smug brow while Will pours my cup of fruit punch. I wait for her to say something snarky about how quickly I abandoned my plans. Staying for now? Yeah, okay. Sure, kid.

She doesn’t know it’s not a real engagement. I still intend to leave Clover at some point.

Don’t I?

Will hands me a cup and I nod a thank you. I taste the red sugar water as I glance around again. People still stare at me — I’m Jovie Ross, after all — but it’s like they know something I don’t. Like I’m the latest member of some happy cult.

But that’s what I wanted, right?

I turn my focus to the band instead. There’s seven of them, all rocking a different instrument from drums to the trombone to the piano. I watch the pianist tickle the ivories and I smile at the intensity on his face.

“Nice song,” Will says.

I glare at him. “No.”

He throws on a smirk as he takes a drink from his cup.

“And here she is!”

I wince, hearing the familiar voice of Coach Rogers beside us.

“Hey, Coach,” Will greets, looking about as tortured as I feel.

He gestures around. “Do you see it?” he asks me. “Do you feel it?”

I pause. “Feel what?”

“That, Ms. Ross, is an easy eight-point crowd and I heard that you had a lot to do with making this little shindig possible. I think we just might hit an 8.5 tonight—”

“Coach,”Will interrupts. “Stop profiling the town.”

“It’s essential.”

“It’s unethical.”

Coach ignores him and looks at me instead. “Keep it up, Jovie.”

“Okay,” I say, forcing a chuckle.

He walks off and Will doesn’t stop glaring at him until he’s well out of sight.

The music slows down and he instantly perks up.

“Now, this…” he slides my cup from my hand and sets it down on the table behind us, “is what we need.”

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