Page 118 of A Little Broken

“This job can be…isolating, especially with assholes for bandmates.” He stands and raps his knuckles against the table. “It was good catching up. Rore, you have my number. Use it, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” she replies.

Then he turns to me. “Good seeing you again, Tatum.”

I nod slowly. “You, too.”

34

TATUM

“You know, we needed this,” I announce while perusing the depressingly empty freezer. Seriously. Where are the Eggos? The ice cream? The popsicles? And it wouldn’t kill us to stock up on some of those frozen cream puffs or premade taquitos, either. I lift a frozen pound of ground beef a few inches off the shelf in hopes of finding something delicious and processed and relatively premade but come up empty. “Although, it would’ve been smart if we’d planned ahead a little better.”

“You’re the one who forgot to go to the grocery store this week, not me,” Rory says from her perfectly made twin bed.

“Hey, I was a little busy cleaning,” I argue.

“And dreading Paxton’s party,” she argues. “Which, by the way, I still haven’t gotten the details on yet.”

Ignoring her, I suggest, “There’s also UberEats?”

“And risk someone touching my food?” She shivers. “No, thank you.”

“Fiiiine.” I push the freezer door closed and pad back to my bed, plopping on the messy sheets. “What do you want to watch?”

“I mean, we’re only on season three ofGilmore Girls…”

“You just like the fact that you’re named after one of the main characters,” I tease.

“Technically, both of the main characters, but?—”

My phone buzzes in my lap, and I look at the screen, finding an unknown number.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Hey, Birthday Girl.

Birthday Girl.

Butterflies swell in my stomach as I fight to keep from swooning. I haven’t seen Pax since the beach, and even though I’d never admit it out loud, and have kept myself busy cleaning other houses, I’ve kind of missed him since he dropped me off at Grinds. And how did he get my number? Normally, I’d be creeped out, but all I can think about is how he went through the effort to track it down.

Swoon.

Attempting to keep the butterflies in check, I add Paxton’s contact information to my phone, then type my response.

Me

I’m sorry, who is this?

Pax

I’m sorry, do other gentlemen call you Birthday Girl?

“Who has you smiling?” Rory asks.

Feeling like I just got caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar, I flip my phone facedown in my lap and jerk my head toward my best friend. “Hmm?”

She grins. “I asked who has you smiling.”

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