Page 10 of My Heart Before You

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “He does it for her.”

Her friend’s eyes never left the twosome behind the bar. “That’s so incredibly sweet.”

“That’s what you need to look for,” she paused, swallowing before continuing. “A grown man that would be willing to wear neon pink just for you, be damned what anyone else thought.”

Bo gave Mary a kiss before standing and crossing the black and white checkered floor towards the hostess stand. He stopped to shake hands and clasp shoulders of regular patrons on the way.

“That’s a tall order.” Ash’s gaze followed the older man.

Emilie allowed a breath before she said, “Maybe start with someone who doesn’t see other people while you’re dating?”

“That seems more attainable.” She rolled her spring green eyes. “Intheory.”

Their food arrived, and Ash moaned joyfully over her strawberry milkshake and chili cheese fries.

“I’ve just made a sugar and carb fueled decision about my birthday. Girls only, and we are going dancing!” She put down a fry and opened the calendar on her phone. “Requests go in next week, so you need to ask November 7 and 8 off. Actually, it doesn’t matter if you take the seventh as long as you rally after your shift, but you’ll need the eighth off. We’re going to close the place down.”

Emilie hesitated for a nanosecond but quickly realized that her one good friend here was asking for something as little as to go dancing on her birthday. “Take the eighth off. Got it.”

“Yes!” Ash’s fist pumped the air. “Oh! I also need to ask you for a favor. Some of the ladies I go out with are real ‘party girls.’ I usually don’t drink more than a glass or two to make sure we don’t end up anywhere questionable, but it’s my birthday, and I want to be able to drink, dance, and not worry. Do you think you can be my DD? Or DU? Designated friend that makes sure I don’t end up with another scumbag guy and puts me in an Uber home when the bar closes?”

A laugh broke from her lips. “You got it.”

“Consider it my birthday present.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“No seriously, I would only trust another nurse to make sure things don’t go south. Maybe take the seventh off too, since you’ll be taking care of me that night.” Her friend tilted her head and tapped her slender finger to her chin. “I can pay you in milkshakes.”

Emilie laughed again. “Ash, it’s your birthday. We’ll have fun, but I’ll keep us out of too much trouble. I don’t mind, honestly. It’ll be a blast.”

“You’re the best.” Her friend smiled broadly.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she returned.

???

Laundry washed, folded, and returned to her bag, she gave Ash a firm hug and walked down the hall to the elevator. After only a few seconds, the ubiquitous ding sounded as the doors opened. Stepping in, she craned her neck around the large bag to push the button for the lobby. The elevator began its descent but then stopped at the fifth floor. She scooted away from the button dial to allow the next passenger to make their selection.

When the doors opened, the scent of him reached her first. He smelled of soap, as if he'd just taken a shower, followed by a hint of something natural she couldn’t place, like fallen pine straw warming in the afternoon sun mixed with a hint of salty ocean air. It was an intoxicating combination; the scent of home mixed with the undeniable scent of man.

Peeking around her bundle, she noticed that the hair on his collar was still a bit damp. His skin had a warm golden undertone that suggested it would turn beach boy bronze if given exposure to the sun. A light green striped collared shirt rolled to his forearms topped stone khaki slacks, ending in camel boat shoes without socks.

When he glanced over his shoulder, his blue-grey eyes fixed on hers and flickered with recognition. Immediately, her veins coursed with embarrassment that she’d been surveying a colleague unknowingly.

“Oh, hey . . .” He turned his body halfway around and paused. “I’m sorry. I should be better at names but I’m terrible.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have the same problem.” She shuffled the bag into the crook of her left arm to offer her hand to shake, particularly grateful that she had the foresight to pack her bras and underwear into the center of the bag. “Emilie Hunt.”

He stepped closer. “Colin Abernan.”

The warmth of his large hand around hers sent a strange, slight sensation up her arm and over her shoulder. His gaze drifted to her wrist and fixed there as he held her hand a few seconds longer than a standard handshake.

He cleared his throat as he let go. “Do you live in the building?”

“No, just doing some laundry at my friend’s place.” She raised the bag in her arms an inch.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened to the lobby. With the mechanical action, she felt the nervous breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding flow freely from her lungs.

---