Page 49 of Give Me a Shot

He hadn’t. When she became president of the Folk School, Wendy had made a new promotional video for the website. She’d tried several times to convince Mo to participate, but he’d refused. Rick had let her film him working instead.

“Um, no,” he said. “Why?” What could be interesting about watching him if it wasn’t to learn something during classes?

“Mo, what’s adorable,” Jess said, “is your total lack of awareness of how dead sexy you are.”

His scalp flashed hot as embarrassing giddiness sparked through him. Usually when that happened, he wanted to run away to process the feeling calmly. But Jess couldn’t see him, there wasno need to hide the emotions that would be written all over his face.

“I just…I have trouble believing it when anyone says anything like that,” he said. “Always have.” The silent anxiety he lived with whenever he wasn’t in one of his safe spaces was part of him, and it damn sure wasn’t sexy. So how could he be?

“Hmm,” she said, her tone pensive. “Let’s take just one example, then. Your arms, Mo. Your forearms should be illegal.”

He looked down at the arm that wasn’t holding the phone. What was she talking about? It was just an arm with a few tiny burn marks he’d gotten over the years.

“Oh,” he said.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked.

“Well, I mean, I don’t think you’d lie just to flatter me. But they’re just arms,” he said.

“Very sexy, very masculine arms,” she said. “On a sturdy guy who I know won’t break. There’s a lot more I could say, but I don’t want to overwhelm you. I feel overwhelmed more often than I’d like; I don’t want to do it to you.”

“I’d never guess that,” he said. “You sometimes feeling overwhelmed.”

She sighed.

“I learned pretty early that it was in my best interest to make sure no one ever knew when I was upset. My father was determined to raise tough girls. I learned to keep unacceptable emotions hidden. To seem completely unbothered in all circumstances. While, to his credit, I can say that it helped me display confidence, which has had a positive impact on my life, I think it’s made me come across as cold or harsh or even like a bitch. But more often than not, I’m stuffing down feelings I don’t know how to manage in the moment and trying not to run away so I can deal with them.”

Mo understood exactly what she was talking about. He’d probably only picked up on her grief because he’d caught her off guard. If she usually stuffed down the larger, more erratic emotions, it would seem like she had it together at all times. He cleared his throat.

“I…I like that you can empathize, but it makes me sad for you. To have grown up that way,” he said. “And…” He stopped and stroked his beard. “And I knew you weren’t a bitch. I wish you hadn’t had to learn to stifle your emotions at home.”

Jess sighed.

“A sad story for another day,” she said. “But what about…us? I mean, not to say that there’s necessarily an ‘us.’ ”

Her tone and subject pivot told Mo that it wasn’t the time to ask about the past. She was more interested in the future.

“I understand,” he said. “Why don’t we start with a date?”

“A date? Okay, I like that idea.”

“Dinner?” he asked.

“Yes.”

But where? He’d brought it up, so he should have a suggestion. The problem was that he hadn’t gone anywhere date-worthy in years. He knew lots of kid-friendly restaurants, but that probably wouldn’t work. This was Jess. He could be honest.

“I have no idea where, though,” he said. “Could we say seven, day after tomorrow, and I’ll get back to you with where?”

“Works great for me,” she said. He could tell she was smiling.

“Good,” he said.

“I should probably let you get back to Madison.”

Right. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten that Madison was there; he’d just gotten so drawn into talking with Jess that he’d kind of lost track of his everyday life.

“You’re right. I should go check on her, but I’ll be surprised if she isn’t asleep in her little nest,” he said.

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