Page 74 of Promise Me Sunshine

“I think you’re supposed tothinkyou’re moved by his acting,” I say. “But really you just want to lick whipped cream off his collarbones. It’s a switcheroo.”

“Wait a second,” Jericho shouts, throwing his hands out like he’s stopping an oncoming train, reality bearing down on him. “Are we saying that…effortless hotness doesn’texist? It’s amyth?”

“Calm down.” Rica pats Jericho’s shoulder. “It obviously exists.” She gestures in Miles’s direction.

He turns and looks behind him, turns back, and then, in a state of clear dismay and disbelief, points to his own chest. “Me?”

“No offense,” Rica says. “But there’s an obvious lack of effort here.”

He scratches at the back of his neck and looks down at his faded sweatshirt and, yup, cargo pants. “I…showered.”

“Be still my beating heart.” Rica is fluttering long eyelashes at him.

“So I should have worn…a sweater?” he guesses.

“Oh, God bless him for trying,” I say as the group bursts out laughing.

Miles is still looking completely stymied when a harried waitress weed-whacks her way through the crowd with our tray of food and next round of drinks held high over her head. “Fries, fries, fries.” She slides each basket onto the table. “Beer, beer, Manhattan, martini.”

She forgot my beer but she’s already gone. Miles takes my empty glass and tips half of his fresh beer into it. He says something, but a group shouts with laughter behind us and I shake my head to show I didn’t hear him.

He leans down, pulls back, pushes my hair over my shoulder, and then leans back down. “I asked if you had fun tonight.”

His breath tickles my ear and I fight the urge to shiver. “I did. I can’t believe I got to see them perform live!”

“You’re happy?”

“Yes!”

He nods and pulls away, facing toward whatever Jeffy is saying, but there’s one slice of a second that I catch sight of the expression on his face. A briefly incandescent smile. And then it’s gone.

Before I stuff my face with fries I excuse myself and head to the bathroom to wash my hands. On my way out I bump into Rica waiting in line at the single-stall bathroom.

“Hi!” I say brightly.

She cocks her head and eyes me. “How did you say you met Jericho, again?”

I pause. “I was there when his bike got wrecked.”

“Right.” She’s still eyeing me.

“I take it Jericho brings a lot of newcomers around and it’s up to you and Jeffy to weed out the losers?”

She laughs and it surprises her. “There’s notthatmany losers. But yeah. He’s an easy mark.”

I raise two fingers. “I promise I don’t want anything from him but a concert buddy.”

She nods, casts a glance over her shoulder, and then sighs.

Whoever is in the bathroom is clearly setting up shop. Rica shifts from side to side on her heels. She unzips her leather bomber and underneath is a shirt advertising Dad’s Books and Wisdom.

“Oh, I like your T-shirt. That shop is so great. One of the best bookstores in the city. It’s a shame more people don’t know about it.”

“It’s thebestbookstore in the city. My family runs it.”

“Oh, really? Wow. Wait…are you saying that Dad of Dad’s Books and Wisdom is your actual dad?”

She softens. “Yeah.”

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