Page 86 of Sounds Like Love

We finally got out of the car, and he walked me all the way up to the front door, and there we lingered. I heard him say, “Would you like to go out to dinner tomorrow?”

But at the same time, I said, “I think it’s a love song.”

Then I realized what he’d said. My eyes widened. “Oh…”

“I mean,” he went on, rambling, “it doesn’t have to be dinner if you don’t want dinner, or if you have to work, or—”

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I’m—I already told Van I’d go to dinner with him …”

His eyebrows furrowed, and then he remembered. “Oh.Oh, Van. You did? That’s great!”

I searched his face. “Really?”

“Really—I’m happy for you. I mean, I just asked to do dinner so we could talk more about the song. We can’t just grab pizza every time.”

Oh.I wasn’t sure if I felt relieved or … disappointed?WasI disappointed? No, I couldn’t be. “Pizza does eventually get old. I could maybe reschedule with Van, or—?”

“No—no, there’s no need. Besides, I think you’re right.”

I hesitated. “About …”

His hair had almost completely come undone from the half-bun he kept it in, dark tresses curling around his face and ears, unkempt and handsome, like all the love interests in the music videos I used to watch on MTV. And between us, that melody spun and spun and spun, slowly turning into something real. “I think it’s a love song, too.”

I wanted to kiss him just then, to close the gap between us and taste the thoughts on his lips, wondering if he heard the song in the same key, singing the sound of us. Then he leaned toward me, and my heart jumped into my throat because maybe,maybe—

He kissed me on the cheek.

“I’ll see you later, bird,” he whispered against my ear, forcing a wry smile, and went down the stone pathway of my childhood home to the sidewalk.

And never once looked back.

Chapter32(Even If We’re Just) Dancing in the Dark

WEDNESDAY CAME MUCHtoo fast for my liking. My parents never brought up our conversation before I left for Mitch and Gigi’s. I had a feeling they wouldn’t—and I was glad. Sasha and I met in the afternoons and worked Monday and Tuesday, but we didn’t really get much done. It was like there was a strange wall wedged between us. We toyed with the chorus, played with the verses, but it felt more like kicking a ball back and forth, hoping the ball would change into something else, and it never did. Then on Wednesday morning, Dad asked me if I could help open the Rev for a special bridge card tournament because Mom had a doctor’s appointment, so I ended up getting ready for my dinner in the women’s bathroom while the retirement community toddled in through the front door.

Van looked unfairly handsome as he stood outside of Vi’s Bistro, hands in the pockets of his charcoal-colored trousers, in an ironed white button-down and a fitted matching gray jacket. I wouldn’t have guessed he’d be in anything less.He was in his natural habitat in a suit, pressed to perfection. If Sasha thought him in a white T-shirt and ironed jeans was to impress me, then I wondered what he’d think of this.

We met out front, and Van gave me a slow once-over as I came up to greet him, lingering on my loose, long hair. “I always thought green was your color,” he said in greeting.

I smiled, flattered, as I smoothed my hands down the front of the dress. A few days after I’d tried it on at the boutique, I went back and bought it. Now I was glad I did. “Thanks. It’s not too much?”

“It’s just right,” he replied as he opened the door and let me inside.

Vi’s Bistro was an expensive restaurant I’d been to once before—dinner before senior prom with none other than Van himself. It was in an old, converted cottage located on the far side of Vienna, opposite my parents’ house, so if I wasn’t heading out this way toward Cape Hatteras or Avon, I wouldn’t ever pass it. I think the last time I came down this way was for a midnight release of a video game at the GameStop down the street. I told Van as much, and he laughed at the memory and started chatting about his job.

My phone vibrated. I wondered if it was Sasha, texting because he knew I was on a date, but when I checked it, the message was from Gigi. I didn’t know what she could want from me, especially after our fight yesterday. We hadn’t had a fight like that … ever, really. We’d always sorted things out. But this seemed to be a year of the bad kind of firsts.

It was something I didn’t want to think about.

“I knew talking about video games would bore you,” Van joked.

I turned my phone to silent and told myself I’d text her later as I dropped it into my purse on the back of my chair. “Sorry, sorry, you know I only ever got into video games to read the fanfic.”

He shook his head sadly. “I’ve still never read fanfic.”

“Not everyone can have good taste.”

“Wow, is this a date or a roast?”

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