Page 21 of One More Weekend

One of the telltale signs of spring in New York was the return of the outdoor bouncers.

As we approached the door of Henrietta Hudson, the masc woman at the door stood from her stool and held out her hand for our IDs. She'd been working here for as long as I could remember. Part of me wondered if she noticed when we switched from our fake IDs with Connecticut addresses claiming we were five years older to our real ones from New York.

Realistically she probably saw more fakes than a customs officer.

She scanned images with her phone.

No longer looking young enough to be under 21, she didn't even wait to see the results of the scan before waving us inside.

As soon as we walked inside, a gentle breeze and some light traffic were replaced with heat and pulsing music from the DJ stand across the room.

It was still strange to walk into Henrietta's now after the renovations they did just after we graduated college. It used to be a glorified dive bar, everyone looking to pick a fight for some odd reason.

But now sticky floors had been replaced with cutesy neon signs from Etsy and a new paint job.

Sy started to push through the crowd toward the bar closest to the entrance. I followed closely behind, not quite ready tosearch for my hookup. As I trailed behind her, I watched as a wave of people on the dance floor turned toward Sy. Hungry, the patrons were shocked by the lean muscles of her arms, which were framed perfectly by the patterned button-down.

It happened every time without fail. Undeniably, everyone knew Sy was a catch.

Including me. I couldn't count the times I thought to myselfif only I could find someone like her who wasn't my best friend.

Looking at the excited eyes surrounding us, I sidled up next to her and leaned against the bar. Before I lost Sy to some sexy wolf in the crowd, it was time to make the most of our time together.

At that same moment, refusing to let our buzz die, Sy turned around with two more drinks in her hand.

“To Hennies,” Sigh winked as she lifted her shot in the air, awaiting my own.

With a smile, I chuckled and let my glass meet hers, aclinksounding even over the blaring music.

I shot it back fast enough to avoid thinking about how bad it felt. My lips puckered at the taste, always shocked by the burn.

Coming to my rescue, Sy held out a lime just inches from my lips. I wasn't sure if it was the tequila or my inability to move any faster, but I wrapped my lips around it and pulled the wedge into my mouth and out of Sy’s grip.

Laughing, Sy gawked at me. “Eager much?”

I took my time sucking the sour juice out of the lime before responding, “No point waiting.”

Heat rose in my chest as soon as the words left my lips.

Careful, you know what tequila does.I tried to remind myself that we were in dangerous territory. Sure, I’d thought about taking back my promise from all those years ago more times than I could count. But I knew it was risky to make that move now.

Besides, Sy had friend-zoned me long ago. There was no way her opinion had changed this many years later.

With our shot glasses back on the bar, Sy turned her attention toward the people on the dance floor ahead of us. I recognized a few of them from past nights out but was almost certain that neither of us had tried anything with them before.

But my eyes fell back on Sy, watching her jaw tense as she watched for someone intriguing.

In all honesty, the last thing I wanted to do was find some stranger to spend a night with.

If this was going to be one of my last nights here with Sy all I really wanted to do was get out on the dance floor and party like we used to when we were 19.

“See anyone you like?” Sy leaned over and shout-whispered into my ear.

My throat tightened as I looked up into her green eyes and nodded. “Maybe.”

15

SY

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