Page 59 of Set on You

I lean against the sink. “I never said that. I’m just sayin’... You look like a Marvel superhero. I’d think someone who looks like you would take full advantage of your genetic gifts.” I make my voice light and teasing, remembering how upset he got the first time I falsely assumed.

“Superhero, huh? Someone once told me I look like a Hemsworth. I’m better looking, though.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” I tease him. “You don’t have the Aussie accent to heighten your sex appeal.” He merely has strong, protective biceps I want to curl into until the end of eternity. But no matter.

“Well, blimey,” he says in an awful fake accent.

I shudder with laughter as I catch my reflection in the smudged bathroom mirror. I pat down my now frizzy hair. “Scott, that was British, not Australian.”

“Oh, shit. You’re right. Guess I should stick with my Midwestern accent.”

“It suits you.” I’m cut off when the two drunk girls emerge from the stall screeching about a “bitch” named Brittany.

Before we hang up, I promise Scott I’ll call him when I get home. It’s sad how eager I am to talk to him again.

Luckily, things pick up after I emerge from the bathroom. The girls and I find a more tolerable spot to dance, and by the end of the night, I’ve nearly lost my voice from dramatically singing (screeching) “Wrecking Ball.”

I call Scott back the moment I kick off my heels when we return home.

“Are you in bed now?” he asks.

“Yeah. Just climbed in. Are you?”

“Yup.”

Silence. I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking, that I really wish he was here. My breath quickens at the mere thought of the warmth of his body beside mine. Aside from the fact that I’ve physically resisted the urge to climb him like a tree at every opportunity, particularly when he’s in all his muscled glory at the gym, I undoubtedly like him. A lot.

In fact, he’s my favorite person. Hanging out with Scott is always light. Even when one of us is in a particularly bad mood, we’re clutching our stomachs in rip-roaring laughter fifteen minutes later. Laughter is a staple when we’re together. I don’t think anyone else has evermade me cackle to the point of tears and stomach pains, as if I’ve done an entire ab-ripper routine. And whenever he’s not around, I miss him.

I want to be with him. Every time I see his face, I nearly lose my resolve, just like in the fire truck. The more I think about it, the more I’m starting to realize how different he is from Neil. Looking back, Neil talked about Cammie constantly. I knew deep down he was still in love with her, but I chose to ignore the signs. And yet, Scott doesn’t ever talk about his ex, unless I bring it up. And he doesn’t dwell on it for long.

Maybe this could be different. What am I waiting for? Why am I delaying the inevitable?

I draw in a breath, readying myself to declareTo hell with the rebound rule. I don’t want to wait anymorewith gusto, until he interrupts my train of thought.

“I have a very important question to ask you, Crystal Alanna Chen.” His tone is dead serious.

I swallow nervously, staring up at the ceiling. “Mm-hmm?”

“Do you sleep with your socks on or off?”

I snort, unable to stifle my laughter. “Obviously off. What kind of sick individual sleeps with their socks on?”

He lets out a dramatic sigh of relief and pauses for an awkward second. “Uh, my ex-girlfriend, actually. It was kind of a deal breaker.”

“Is that the real reason you ended things?” I try to keep my tone light, even though I’m taken off guard that he’s brought her up without my prompting.

“That was a factor. But besides how things ended, we didn’t click. It’s hard to describe. She was really great on paper. Had everything going for her. But then I’d make a joke and she wouldn’t really get it. Different sense of humor, I guess.”

“Is humor important to you?”

“Always.”

“Why?”

He pauses for a moment. “My grandma always said you should laugh at least once a day.”

“I love that.” I turn onto my side. “What was she like?”

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