Page 35 of Between Here and There

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought a silk robe was rather risqué,” Kate counters with a smile, making us all laugh.

Then it’s my turn, and I pass Bon a red box. “Okay, so... mine’s a mix of both.”

Bon eyes it suspiciously, then opens it to reveal a bottle of massage oil and a small book titled 101 Ways to Spice Up Date Night. Her eyes widen, and she laughs, giving me a playful shove. “Are you guys trying to get me arrested?”

“Why did you think there were handcuffs?” Haley says.

“Hey, it’s practical!” I defend, grinning.

Bon laughs, holding up the book for the group to see. “Ladies, this is all the sexual wisdom you will need. We’ll have this book on rotation.” She laughs one more time before setting it down.

Everyone else proceeds to give Bon provocative trinkets, and I find myself enjoying the night. It’s good to be surrounded by women who just want to have fun in each other’s company.

So, I finally decide to keep enjoying it. The worst that can happen is that I get drunk. But then, there wassomeonewho offered to help me during times like these. Would it be too early to cash in on that offer?

I don’t think about that. Instead, I dance through the night. And as ‘Wannabe’ blares through the speakers, I unwind.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Joshua

As soon as I put the tools away and the night is creeping, I’m left with nothing but my thoughts. And Emily keeps sneaking into them. I wonder how she’s doing at Bon’s bridal shower. She’s probably pretending she’s not affected by all the sentimental stuff. I imagine her there, trying to act like the cool, detached friend while secretly getting pulled into all the excitement.

It makes me chuckle to myself as I make a steaming cup of tea to end my day. I look around and I can’t help but imagine how this very kitchen used to be the place I used to avoid. It’s always in the kitchen where my mom and dad fought. Where they threw things at each other. Screamed hurtful words. And it’s as if I’m pulled back into the past, where I’m no one but a gangly teenager. It’s within these walls that I committed to being uncommitted. Being in relationships. It’s where I learned to fix things within my control. Like broken pipes and faulty wiring—not emotions. Definitely not people.

Emily’s a puzzle, though. One I never thought I’d want to solve, but here we are. The kiss on the cheek earlier today wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t supposed to mess with my head. But it did. She’s playing this game too, teasing me back and catching me off guard in a way no one else really has before. But it’s just a game. It’s nothing I can’t brush off. I’ve known her (the new her) for two weeks. That’s not enough time for feelings to surface, right?

We’ll just keep up this little act until the wedding. But I wonder what will happen then? After all this pretending, what happens next? Will Emily and I just go back to being strangers?

I shake my head, pushing the thoughts aside. At the same moment, the light flickers in the kitchen. There’s another thing I can fix. That’s something I know how to do.

But then, as I am about to leave to get the toolbox, my phone rings. It’s Emily. When I pick up and hear her voice, it’s unmistakably slurred.

“Jooooossshhuuuaaaaaaaaa,” she says—no, sings. “Theez eez meeee, Emileeeee,” she giggles.

“Are you… okay?” I ask.

“I amperfection!” she says. “I just wanna say thank you, kind sir!”

“What?”

“I am having the time of my life! Thank you for telling me to let loooooose!” She screams the last word, I had to pull my phone away from my ear. It’s a struggle to understand her in between the laughing and the slurring words. “Oooh, a table. I should dance on a table, don’t cha think?”

“No. Emily,” I say. “Where are you?”

“Bridal shower!” she shouts. “Can you please come get us?”

I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. Of course. I told her she should have some fun, and that I would help her, and now she’s asking for it. In a way, I feel flattered that she trusts me enough already. “Where are you?” I’m already grabbing my keys. She rattles off the name of the bar, and I realize it’s halfway across town. Perfect.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I say, and I can hear her giggling on the other end of the line, like the whole situation is hilarious. “Stay put, okay?”

“Hurry up, babyyyy,” she whines. Apparently, drunk Emily is flirtier than me. “I might need to dance on a table while I wait.”

I groan. “Please don’t.” She just laughs, so I repeat, “Seriously, Emily, stay put, please.”

The call ends, and I storm out the door while calling Ryan.

“What’s up?” Ryan answers, sounding ready for anything.

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