Page 39 of Wish You Would

She stayed silent.

“I don’t know,” I started, looking from my sister to the stage, where Patti Mayonnaise was finishing up soundcheck. “I think Halle’s kinda busy at the mo—”

“Looks like they’re about done,” Anya cut in. Looping her arm through mine, she started forward. “Come on, Parks. Let’s go say hi.”

I wanted to dig my feet into the hardwood, to drop to the ground and go limp like a toddler having a tantrum. But I’d already proclaimed that I needed to vomit to this woman. She didn’t need to see me behaving like a child, too.

So, I let my sister drag me across the bar, sparing one last glance behind me. Gigi stood where we’d left her, watching as we moved further and further away. Was it wishful thinking, or did she look a little…sad?

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” I murmured to Anya, mere feet from the stage. “I don’t think I can do—”

“Oh, hey!” Halle jumped down from the stage, tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder, stage lights glinting off her golden skin. “Parker, right?”

Anya gave my shoulder one last squeeze, then she forged ahead, striking up a conversation with Olsen. I watched her go, my brain buzzing like a hornets nest. One more glance backward told me that Gigi had left her post. There was a drop in my gut, Something cold. Something like…disappointment?

I didn’t have time to analyze, because then Halle was in front of me. The object of my months-long affection.

And I still hadn’t said a word.

“H-hey, yeah.” I smiled, pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my hands. “That’s me, Parker.” Inwardly, I winced. But then, Gigi’s voice played in my mind. Eye contact, she said. Keep your body loose and approachable.

As if she were right next to me, hands on my hips, my body relaxed. Meeting Halle’s eye, I angled my body toward her. “You guys sounded great.”

Her eyes lit up, her smile bursting across her face like sunshine. “Thanks,” she said, putting a hand on my arm. “That’s so sweet.”

I looked down at her hand, short, bare nails and unadorned fingers, and my mind’s eye recalled a very different hand on my arm last week. Fireflies in my stomach and her breath on my lips.

Followed by a week of silence.

Mentally shaking myself to dispel the memory, I focused on Halle. Because she was here. She was so pretty, and she was smiling at me like she could talk to me all night.

So, for now, the mixed signals and scalding chemistry and confusing words could stay put, along with Gigi as she watched me walk away.

For now, I was going to flirt.

17

17 GIGI

LOVEFOOL

“You’re gonna wipe the polish right off the wood.”

I glared at Dante, who’d ditched his stained apron for a Heathcliff’s t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to showcase his biceps. “Mind your business, Mister Muscles.”

In my periphery, I caught his posture straightening. I didn’t have to look at his face to know I’d missed the mark with my insult. “I like that,” he said. “Can I get that on my name tag?”

Despite my annoyance, I snorted. “Sure, why not?” Tossing the towel I’d been wiping the bar with in its bucket below, I brushed my hands on my jeans. “Tell you what, you make it through your first Saturday night solo shift behind the bar, I’ll even get you a shirt that says it on the back.”

“Hells yeah.” He brushed his shoulder and smirked. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Language,” I chided, full-on grinning at him now. “You’ve got a baby on the way.”

“My bad, my bad.” Tossing a towel over his shoulder, he nodded. “For serious, though.” He looked me up and down, all-business. “I’m gonna get that shirt.” Then, without missing a beat, he turned to greet the next group of customers walking up to the bar.

I folded my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter, watching as he did his thing. He’d caught on quick, to the surprise of no one. Years of working at this place had ingrained the drinks in his mind, and he barely needed to glance at the recipe cards we kept under the bar. Hell, I still needed a peek every now and then.

And his people skills? Fuck, the dude could talk a giraffe into a Mini Cooper. A week into his training, and our specialty drink sales were already up. I could only imagine what those numbers would look like once he was on his own.

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