Page 19 of King of Rhythm
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After that night, we spend every night together. Either at her apartment or at my place. The days speed by and before I know it, it’s been three weeks and I’m wondering when we can make it officially known in our bingo group that we’re a couple. It feels funny and wonderful sitting side by side on one of our couches, playing bingo on our phones with our group.
I kinda let it slip at work that I’m seeing someone. At the time, I wondered if Avery had told her work friends about me. Though, I can’t help grinning, thinking maybe all the flower deliveries have clued them in that she’s seeing someone.
On Thursday I have my answer when we’re having a rare dinner out at a pizza place close to her apartment, our first time out since our initial meet-up date, and one of her coworkers pop up.
A short brunette with huge red glasses dashes over to the tiny two-person table we’re sitting at with a huge grin on her face. “Avery! Is this Bryce?” she asks, her body a whirl of movement as she bounces lightly on her feet, our table rocking with her movements. “The flower guy?”
“Sarah, hi,” Avery’s eyes shift from her friend to me. “Yeah, this is Bryce, the flower guy. Bryce, this is my friend and coworker, Sarah.”
Standing, I hold out my hand to her. Sarah snatches it between both of hers, clutching it more than shaking it. “It’s so good to meet you. Avery goes on and on about you.”
My eyebrows jump up and I glance over at Avery, my smile growing wider. “She does?”
A snort comes from the woman still clinging my hand. “No, of course, she doesn’t. Not nearly enough. She owes me details. Mad details,” she says, glaring at Avery who’s squirming under that penetrating stare.
“Sarah, order up!” A worker at the counter yells.
Her head whips around and she releases my hand. “That’s me. Avery, we’ll have to chat more tomorrow at happy hour. Don’t forget it’s Trevor’s party. Bring Bryce.” She shoots us a thumbs up and whirls away to collect her food.
Sinking back down into my chair, I mutter, “Whoa, she’s a force to be reckoned with.”
“You have no idea,” Avery says, staring fondly after her friend and shaking her head. Turning in her seat to face me, she smiles. “I was stressing over replying to your message asking about meeting and Sarah made the decision for me. As you see she pretty much just does what she wants.”
Wiping my hands off with a wet nap before I can resume eating, unease burns like heartburn in my chest. “Oh.”
“Yeah, we were at happy hour at the local pub around from work and she grabbed my phone and sent the text before I even knew what she was doing,” she says, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes before picking up her slice of pizza again.
“You didn’t want to meet me?” I ask, trying not to sound as hurt as I feel.
I’m expecting her to laugh and blow that silly thought off. I mean, we chatted for two months, it seemed meeting was the next logical step. Something we both wanted.
“Of course, I wanted to meet you. I was nervous, though.” She drops her pizza and pushes a thick bunch of hair behind her ear. “You’re very handsome,” she says, giving me the shy smile that normally makes my heart beat faster.
This time I’m too hurt for it to have its normal effect on me. “Good thing you didn’t know how short I was then,” I say in a snide tone.
She draws back as if struck. And a part of me hums in approval. I’m hurt, so I’m lashing out. I want her to feel the same stunned pain that’s currently spreading through my body. It’s childish as hell, I know that, yet I can’t stop my tongue from continuing to spit vitriol. “You would have deleted my message and I never would have heard from you again if you had known I was shorter than you. I’m surprised you’re even out in public with me if it bothers you so much.”
I glance suspiciously around the tiny pizza parlor. It’s a hole in the wall kind of place, with barely a trickle of customers. Maybe that’s why we’re here. No chance of people seeing us together.
“Bryce, I’m sorry. I told you I was sorry about that,” Avery says, reaching across the table for my hand.
Looking over at her, it hits me. I’m blowing things way out of proportion here and my gut rolls in nauseating waves. “Ahh, shit. I’m so sorry, Avery. I don’t know what got into me there.”
“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have told you about Sarah replying for me.”
My stomach cramps up. That’s not what I’m upset about. But I need to let it go. I don’t want to fuck up what we have, not when I- I swallow hard and slam the door on that thought before I can give voice to it. It’s neither the time nor the place.
“So, what time’s happy hour? I’m good any time after five tomorrow. I got a few things after school hours that I need to handle before I can leave, but I can bring a change of clothes to work.” I give a weak grin, happy to change the subject and reclaim the good mood of earlier.
Avery returns my grin, her eyes not quite meeting mine. “Oh, you don’t need to come. It would be so boring for you, and Sarah would hound you the entire time. Besides, you wouldn’t know anyone there.”
“I’d know you. And isn’t that how you meet people?”
A panicky look tightens her face, and she gives a shaky laugh. “I doubt I’ll be there long. Just long enough to show my face so nobody comments later that I didn’t show up.”
My hands ball into fists on the table as my mouth tightens. I give a slow nod. “I understand.”
