Page 10 of Heart Strings
I stare flatly as she chews. Then I snatch the skewer from her hand and steal a hunk of chicken from the top.
Cielo’s scowl could cut steel. “Do you wanna get stabbed in the carotid?”
It’s unwise to get between a med student and a decent meal at the best of times, but I can’t help wanting to get to her.
I lick my lips and Lo’s eyes are on my mouth as she swallows hard. We both know what I can do to her with this mouth.
When I hand the kebab back, she clutches the wooden skewer with a death grip.
“Buy some sunscreen, Lo, because the hooker is happening.” I smirk as an angry flush reaches her cheeks. “Lark and Callum want to do this together. I’ll text you the specifics later this week, so unblock my number.”
Chapter 6
Lo
That pompous ass.I stomp home, dodging buskers and revelers stumbling out of cafés and pubs. I only agreed to the joint hen/stag party for Lark.
We’ve spent ten minutes together and Aidan’s already pressing all my buttons like Buddy the Elf in the Empire State Building elevator. I’m lit up, and not from holiday joy.
Behind the swishing, gold-tinted foliage of willow trees next door, a figure watches as I approach my apartment building.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack, lurking in the dark?” I exclaim, clutching my chest when I spot Lark sitting on the iron garden bench.
“You look like you’re on the warpath.” Dim string lights illuminate the sketch pad in her lap. We often spend time here among the willows and roses, me studying and her reviewing animation files on her laptop. For the past three years, I’ve sublet the apartment next door to the funeral home where she and Callum live and he’s the undertaker. It’s close to the university and the cul-de-sac is quiet thanks to the adjacent cemetery.
I wave her over as I unlock the front door. “Aidan was playing a pop-up show at the Hare’s Breath.”
She cringes and follows me inside and up the stairs to my apartment. I hang my bag and keys in their designated spots. Lark dumps her pink cowboy boots haphazardly on top of each other in the walkway. When we lived together in Austin that nonsense drove me crazy, but I swallowed it down because she was in such a dark place. However, once she healed, I realized that she’s always been a bit of a slob. I resist the urge to move her boots into the correct spot for guests on the top shelf of the shoe storage unit for about four seconds before I cave.
When I began to sublet the semi-furnished unit from Lark, there wasn’t much here. Now everything has a place. A decent hi-fi and record player on a salvaged side table. A bookcase populated by a mix of vintage rock, indie folk, and Latin alternative LPs, and riveting page-turners likePrinciples for Clinical MedicineandLippincott Illustrated Reviews: Biochemistry. Between the demanding schedule of third-year clinical rotations, study groups, and lectures, I’m not home often, but I want a calm environment and decent music when I am. I drop the needle on a Vanessa Zamora special edition I found crate-digging at a record shop in the Westend. Soothing, groove-driven music plays as Lark heads to the kitchen.
“Are you sure you’re okay with Aidan being part of the wedding?” Lark opens a cabinet in search of a glass. It’s overflowing with bottles of vitamins and supplements sent over by my mom. I’d prefer if she sent Tex-Mex specialties that are hard to find in Ireland, like yellow habanero sauce, but if it’s not for my health my mom’s not interested.
“He just caught me off guard tonight.” I explain how Aidangot under my skin with that old song from the Cure, then proceeded to steal a bite out of my kebab and dictate my attendance at the joint bachelor/bachelorette party on the water.
Lark hums and plops down on the tiny loveseat. “I think it sounds fun to do it together, but you don’t have to go on the boat if you don’t want—”
“Oh, I’m going. Aidan is not going to stop me celebrating you. And I already decided to wear something ridiculously hot for the boat ride.”
Suspicion fills her eyes. “You don’t…want him back, do you?”
“Not to lure him back—to rub what he lost in his face. If he insists on being in close quarters with me, the least I can do is make him suffer for it.”
When he saw me earlier, I’d just gotten off a twelve-hour shift and looked a little ragged. Meanwhile, Aidan could’ve stepped off aRolling Stonephotoshoot.
“He uses bottled tanner now,” I speculate. “Or one of those booths that sprays you like a car wash.”
“Or he’s just gotten some sun on tour.”
“And he got Invisalign. Or veneers. His teeth are different.”
Every small change is unnerving. I didn’t like the beard covering his dimples or that the gap between his teeth was now closed. His imperfect, gapped smile was so charming. The sweet, genuine guy I’d fallen in love with has been replaced by an airbrushed impostor.
“So? You had braces growing up,” Lark reminds me. Not only braces, but headgear for eleven months.
“We agreed that you’d never mention my snaggletooth again.”
“This isn’t right. I’ve never heard you judge anyone for that kind of thing before. Whyareyou judging Aidan for it, anyway?”
