Page 65 of Give Me a Shot

Out of all the photos she could have happened upon, out of all the memories, it had to be one in the dress she’d worn on her first date with Mo. The dress she’d put on, wondering if Cassie would like Mo, too. Jess wasn’t a believer in signs, but it felt like Cassie had just answered her question. Like she’d told Jess that she approved.

Steinem stretched and yawned. He looked at her with his “silly human” face.

I guess I should stop hesitating with Mo. Maybe it’s worth the risk to accelerate things with him, to truly let him in.

She slid her fingertip down her sister’s face on the screen.

Maybe I should listen to my sister.

Chapter Sixteen

Mo

During a lull in activity at his shop, Mo slid his phone out of his pocket and checked to see if he had any notifications. All he saw was his home screen. He’d sent Jess a text the previous evening, checking in and asking how her meeting with the archers had gone. She usually replied in less than an hour, but it was tena.m.and he hadn’t heard from her.

Probably busy. I’m sure everything’s fine.

He was working with one of his apprentices, going through the checklist he had created for trainees. He had been very satisfied with her work thus far and didn’t feel the need to watch her every move. What he did feel was a stronger and stronger urge to get in touch with Jess. Like other times that he’d felt the need to reach out to a family member and had found out that something was wrong, he just couldn’t set the feeling aside.

“Grace,” he said, tapping on the apprentice’s shoulder. “Be right back.”

As he walked to his office, he searched his mind, trying to name the exact feeling that was welling up inside. It wasn’t quite anxiety; it wasn’t fear. It was a clear need to hear Jess’s voice to be sure that she was okay. He closed the door to his shop and leaned against it, pulling his phone from his pocket, then he dialed Jess’s number.

“Hey,” she answered after the second ring.

The uncomfortable feeling abated.

“Hi,” he said. “How’s it going?”

The line was silent a moment.

“Um.” She sighed. “Good, I guess.”

The feeling came back. Her tone was wrong, her voice too quiet.

“Am I interrupting you?” he asked.

“No, no, not at all,” she said. “I came into work to get ahead on some things. Sorry, by the way. I saw your text from last night. I was going to text you back, but I kind of got lost in everything.”

Something was definitely off. She sounded defeated.

“That’s okay,” he said. “We still on for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely,” she said.

He hesitated between asking if something was wrong and not prying. He hated it when other people pried with him, and he did his best to avoid doing it to someone else.

“Are you sure you want me to come over?” he asked. “I can make you dinner at my place if you want.”

“No. I’m really happy to have you come over,” she said. “Let’s not change anything.”

“Okay,” he said, hoping his smile came through the phone. “Be there at seven?”

“At seven,” she said.

—

At 6:53 that evening, Mo parked his truck at the curb in front of Jess’s house. The tag at the collar of his Henley kept annoying him. He hadn’t worn it in a long time and had forgotten to cut out the tag. At least unbuttoning it a bit had slackened the collar. He repositioned the bouquet of Maiden Pinks on the passenger seat. During his “hopeless romantic yet terrified of big feelings” period as a teenager, he’d learned the meanings of at least fifty flowers. The plan had been to tell a girl how he felt without having to experience the muscle-burning fear of saying the words. It had fallen flat since he’d been the only one to know the meanings. He’d chosen Maiden Pinks because they signified admiration. She probably wouldn’t know that, but he liked making the gesture.He’d considered pink roses, as they also meant admiration, but he’d been worried that their additional meaning of blossoming love might be too forward.

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