Page 32 of Give Me a Shot

“I dunno,” she said.

“I’m glad you do,” he said.

She smiled. He returned it as they enjoyed a little more silence together.

“I think we’ll be okay,” she said finally, maintaining eye contact but getting her key into her lock.

He took a small step back, nodding, returning his hands to his pockets.

“We will.”

“We can do this. Together,” she said.

He chuckled, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink as he glanced at the ground again.

“Good night, Mo.”

“Good night.”

Chapter Nine

Mo

Mo took a closer look at the bar stock he’d been working. The piece that would become the blade of the blacksmith’s knife was warped. It looked like a novice had made it. If he had to chuck this one and start from scratch, it would be the second piece of stock he’d wasted that evening.

Maybe I need a break.

He set the stock aside and left his hammer on the anvil. His palms were sticky and uncomfortable, so he wiped them down the sides of his jeans before opening the mini fridge he kept in the corner of his workshop. He grabbed a can of sparkling water and drank for a long time, long enough to finish more than half of it. He’d intended to clear his mind by working on a project that evening, but it kept shifting to another subject: his kiss with Jess.

That memory kept pushing out all his other thoughts. It bounced him around between disbelief, happiness, and guilt. The happiness part nearly overwhelmed him at times. He usually hid from too much happiness unless it was related to Maddie, trying to tamp it down so it didn’t create expectations or become so strong that his hands shook or his heart beat too fast. The disbelief made him wonder if he’d dreamed the whole thing. He had a lot of trouble with the guilt. Because he didn’t understand where it was coming from.

It’s okay to like someone, to be attracted to them. To kiss them.

He tossed the empty can in the recycling bin. He started to return to his project but gave himself another moment to lean against the old tool chest he’d placed against the wall. Even with its wear and tear, it was still sturdy enough to support him. He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and sighed, letting his head fall back.

He hadn’t been attracted to anyone in years. It was normal to feel out of sorts. Mo knew that he felt out of sorts more than other people; that was what had essentially led to his divorce. Diana had tried to be supportive of the way that he managed his sensitivity, but his need to withdraw from the world led to her feeling smothered when she tried to live the same way. After that, he’d slipped easily into withdrawing from women, though it hadn’t been an active choice. It made sense that he would feel anxious or off-kilter when intrigued by someone for the first time in years.

Shouldn’t feel like I’m in middle school again, though.

He felt like he was going insane. The period of time between his full realization of his crush on Jess and his choice to act on it by kissing her had been so short. Minuscule. For him, at least in the past, he would have ruminated on a crush for weeks at a minimum. He’d talk himself out of the possibility that it could be requited, shutting down completely in the presence of the woman because his shyness and anxiety were short-circuiting his brain and making his body jittery. There was something about Jess that pushed him through all those crippling overwhelming feelings and made him act without ruminating. Was it her inquisitiveness? Her determination? Her dark, piercing gaze and rich flowing hair, or that comforting vanilla fragrance he’d noticed recently but hadn’t connected to Jess until she was sitting in his truck?

At least she didn’t seem to notice me sniffing the air like a maniac so I could feast on it.

It had likely been a combination of all those traits that made him take a chance without worrying as much as he had in the past. Maybe he shouldn’t compare the present and the past, even if doing so might help him feel steadier about the present. Hepushed off the chest and returned to his task. Sliding a third bar stock off the bottom shelf, he placed it in the forge to start warming up.

Novelty shouldn’t provoke guilt. If anything, it should pique curiosity. But maybe it would be wiser not to follow that particular feeling. It loaded him up with too much shaky energy. He pulled the glowing bar stock out of the flames and returned to his anvil. Hammer raised, he put his thoughts aside and started over. Things were going well until his mind replayed Jess’s reaction to the kiss. Her soft moan and her hand on his chest. He brought his hammer down too hard on a part of the stock he’d unintentionally pushed past the edge of the anvil. The piece bent, giving what should have become the blade a bend of about eighty degrees. He stopped, stood up straight, and examined it.

I need help.

But from who? He hadn’t thought this much about a woman—noticing the way she moved, the fact that she stood up for him with others and even stood up to him when she said she wouldn’t listen to him calling himself weird—since the earliest days with Diana. Now here he was, so distracted that he couldn’t do a simple task that he’d done countless times. He put the stock and his hammer down on the anvil and flicked off the forge blower. After rubbing both hands on his jeans again, he pulled out his phone. This was about a woman, about relationships, so Khalil came to mind first. But Khalil was too excitable, like a puppy. There was Rachid, more analytical. But Rachid had always been in a committed relationship to his studies, then his career. Karim was shy, like Mo was, but he was doing well with Isadora. Maybe he would be a better choice. Amir was too young, still learning himself. Mo groaned. He was making things too complicated.

He checked the time. If he hurried…

—

The chime rang out as Mo walked through the door at the Original Fade barbershop. Darius, Khalil’s business partner, was brushing off his chair.

“Mo!” he said when he looked up. “It’s good to see you.” He reached out, and Mo shook his hand.

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