Page 58 of Someone Just Like You

“You’re making goo-goo eyes like he’s a Chris,” she said, tapping the rim of her martini glass. “You have zero finesse.”

I sucked my teeth. “Oh stop it! He’sJude. We might be dating now, but we’re not like that.” I sipped my wine and gazed at him over my glass.

He caught my eye and winked.

A buzz of electricity zipped through me. We’d been together almost a month now and known each other forever, yet our intimacy still felt very much new.

“You’re not likethat, huh?” She gave me side-eye. “Deny. Deny. Deny.”

I lowered my chin to my chest. Who was I kidding? “Fine, butshhh. Not in front of…” I motioned to Jude’s roommates, who completed our party of four at the table. Thankfully, they were too fixated on their phones to pay us any attention at the moment.

“We heard everything,” Alex said, not looking up.

“He’s right.” Jerry placed his iPhone face-up on the bar. “We can see without watching and hear without listening.”

Esther pushed out her lips and squinted at him. “What does that evenmean?”

“Come closer and I’ll explain it to you,” Jerry said, his voice husky. Then, as if startled by his own attempt at flirtation, his blue-gray eyes widened and a film of red crept up his neck. “I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry…never mind.” He dropped his gaze to his feet.

Esther and I shared an amused look.

“I agree with Esther.” Alex straightened the black tie tucked under his red, black, and white argyle sweater. “You’re both very much likethat. I even heard Jude talking to Yogi about picking up new hairbands…I think he called them bunches…for his sweetie pie.” He pulled a face.

“That’s because Yogi slobbered over all of mine.” I smiled into my drink. Jude called me his sweetie pie. Not that he’d admit it.Talk about deny, deny, deny.

Alex and Jerry were Jude’s friends from college, but the two had been almost like brothers since grammar school where they grew up in Los Angeles. They were also business partners who designed mobile apps for fitness centers.

Alex, a slight guy who wore black-rimmed glasses and owned a collection of argyle sweaters in multiple color combinations, was nerdy cute and only slightly smoother than Jerry, who was attractive and on the cusp of chubby with eyes the color of a Siberian husky’s and a thick head of prematurely graying hair.

Their lack of game made the pair’s crush on Esther immensely entertaining. Until they were sidetracked by an email from a potential new client, a popular topic of conversation that night had been what it was like living in New York as a British expat.

Continuing where he’d left off, Jerry asked, “Do you miss Jaffa cakes? What exactlyareJaffa cakes?”

“What’s dating like across the pond?” Alex asked.

Esther’s eyes wandered around the restaurant. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know. I moved to the states in college.” Her voice was flat as her interest in the conversation appeared to wind down.

“Does that mean you didn’t date in high school? Because I didn’t.” Jerry frowned.

“Are you dating anyone now?” Alex asked.

“Smooth,” I muttered under my breath.

Esther stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the loo.”

Jerry made moon eyes. “I’ll go with you. Not to the ladies’. To the men’s.”

“I’ll come too,” Alex said, nearly tripping on his tassel loafers.

I observed the two of them shuffle off after her with a smile in my heart. This was the Esther I knew and loved—the sarcastic, strong, and sexy woman who turned dorks to dust, but with humor and kindness, not by cruel dismissal. In all the years I’d known her, only Killian, who’d finally taken the hint and left her alone, had been able to steal her sparkle. Alex and Jerry were way better catches than her ex, but I doubted she’d go for either of them. I was just glad to have my best friend back. With her twin nieces firmly potty trained, she’d cut her Mary Poppins duties down drastically and was no longer commuting back and forth between the city and Connecticut several times a month to help her uncle. Poppy was grateful too, even if her typically aloof cat personality refused to show it.

I turned my attention to Jude, who was flanked by customers. His booming laugh reached our table. I’d always resented Jude for his easygoing and open personality because it suggested a confidence I didn’t share. But now that he wasmyguy, I could admit it was sexy as all get-out. He was no doubt in his element working the bar, but was bartending his passion or was it simply what he did to pay the rent?

I squirmed on my stool and ordered myself not to go there. I still hadn’t confessed to letting the air out of Jude’s tire all those years ago, unintentionally ending his aspiring baseball career when he was thrown off the defective bike. We were having so much fun together, both in and out of bed, and I didn’t want to ruin it. Besides, who would gain from the truth coming out? Sure, it might alleviate my own guilt, but would it change anything as far as Jude’s career in baseball? No. And would he hate me all over again? Most definitely. Why risk our future by bringing up the past? This way of thinking worked wonders.

As if affirming my decision to let the past go, at least for now, my phone pinged a text message from Nicole to me and Michelle.

Nicole:What’s the deal with Thanksgiving?

---