Page 8 of Under My Skin
I laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Simon lowers his voice and leans in across the table slightly. “The girl who took our order?”
“No.” I shake my head, still laughing. “Not even close.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his disappointment. “Aw, come on, man. You got me excited for a second.”
The server brings back our drinks, and Simon and I thank her.He waits for her to walk away before continuing. “When’s the last time you’ve been on a date?”
I take a sip and try my best to control my face when the bitterness hits my tongue. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Because I want to know.”
My fingers tap the glass. Simon doesn’t have a girlfriend right now, but I wish he did. He doesn’t have time to pester me about relationships when he’s in one. Eventually, I shrug. “Maybe it’s been a while.”
He nods. “Yeah. It has been.” Leaning his head to the side in a not-so-subtle nod toward the bar, he adds, “Which is why you should maybe put yourself out there more.”
My eyes narrow, and without looking at the girl again, I say, “She’s too young.”
“Says who?”
A dry chuckle leaves my lips before I force myself to take another sip. “Me.”
He sets down his glass. “No way. You’re twenty-nine. You might be pushing old, but you’re not too old.”
“We’re the same age,” I deadpan.
He takes another sip and nods. “Sure, sure, sure. But I’m fun enough to keep me young for a while.” He smiles after the jab and takes another sip.
Maybe he’s right. I had a serious girlfriend for years. Jen and I met our senior year of college and dated for a while after. I figured I was as good as settled down, but things changed last year.
Apparently, I pushed her away. Who knows, maybe I did, but it wasn’t intentional. I was busy, and grieving, and it felt easier to throw myself into the shop than deal with everything else. Ever since she left, I haven’t wanted to date. Losing her and losing my dad in the same year was a lot—even if they were different losses.
“Now that Kate and I broke up, we could be each other’s wingman, you know.” He wiggles his eyebrows like this will somehow seal the deal.
“I don’t need a wingman. I need a functional apartment and more customers than I know what to do with.”
“And youwill.” Simon emphasizes the last word, dragging it out. “But you can still have a little fun along the way.”
He wiggles his eyebrows again, and I can’t help laughing. “Later.”
With a roll of his eyes, Simon mutters, “Fine.” Taking another sip, he sits up straight. “By the way, Lucy is coming into town this weekend.”
The name pulls a string of memories to the forefront of my mind. Nothing specific. Mostly just eating in the same kitchen or watching the same TV, but Lucy was always there. I’ve only seen her a handful of times since she left for college a few years ago, but I can still imagine her blonde hair secured in a ponytail while she clutches a book to her chest.
She and Simon are five years apart, so I had the pleasure of watching them go through all the typical sibling phases. She idolized him, then she annoyed him, and eventually he annoyed her. The two couldn’t be more different. Simon was sneaking out so I could practice tattooing on him, while Lucy was acing exams and turning down invites to parties without a second thought.
Scratching the side of my jaw, I ask, “How did she take the news?”
He scoffs. “Not great, but it’s not her fault. They still haven’t told her.”
I blink, my hand freezing for a moment before dropping. “They—what?”
Simon just shakes his head like he’s the disappointed parent in this situation. “Mom told me Lucy knew, so I brought it up as if she knew.” He pauses to take a sip. “She did not.”
“Still?”
He gives a solemn nod. “According to Lucy, still.”
