Page 48 of The Love of My Next Life
“Just wanted to step out of my comfort zone tonight,” I tell her as I buckle my seat belt.
“Eric isn’t going to know what’s hit him,” she says with a laugh and waggles her eyebrows suggestively, then pulls out of my driveway. I shrug that off, too. Eric isn’t exactly who I’m concerned with. “I did damn good with that shirt. You’re welcome.”
I smooth my hands down my dark wash, skin-tight skinny jeans and try to ignore the chilled air reminding me that a significant portion of my upper body is exposed. Claire bought me a white silk halter top for my birthday last year. The back is scooped low, the hem cropped short, and the material is almost-but-not-quite see-through.
I told her there was no way in hell I’d ever wear it.
I’m eating those words tonight.
“Don’t celebrate yet...” I say, and she side-eyes me. “I have a request.”
“Okaaaay.”
I fidget with my fingers since the hem of my shirt is above my bellybutton and take a breath.
“Well, you know how I hate going to these things...”
“Yeah?”
“And I only really go for you,” I say honestly. “I’d rather be at home watching a movie or reading...”Or painting.
“I know, Len,” she says defensively. “I appreciate you coming with me. But you have fun. You can’t even act like you don’t.”
I don’t argue even though she couldn’t be more wrong. I could give her a rundown of the last two parties we attended, but that’s a terrible idea, so I don’t.
“I was just wondering if you could DD tonight,” I blurt out, then wait.
She stays silent. Taps her fingers on the steering wheel. The longer she goes without talking, the more irritated I get. I never ask for anything. She drags me to these things all the time and I’m always her babysitter. This one time—
“But, Len,” she breaks the silence, “you know how hard it is for me to socialize at these things without having a drink.” I grit my teeth and roll my eyes out the window. “You don’t even like alcohol.”
“Claire,” I begin, my voice flat, ready to argue my point, “I just think tha—”
“Okay, fine, Lennon,” she breathes out. “Fine. I’ll DD tonight, but you owe me.”
I force a smile and agree. I don’t point out how, if we’re doing a tit for tat sorta thing, she’s way more in my debt than I am hers.
But I only want to antagonize one Davis sibling tonight, and that sibling isn’t Claire.
We’re quiet the rest of the ride to Josh’s house, and when Claire parks on the road and climbs out, she makes a show of taking the car keys and shoving them in her clutch.
“Thank you,” I say, and she shrugs, so I change the subject. “Looks like the guys are back.”
I note several of the football players’ vehicles on the road, which means they’re back from the away game. Just the mention of Josh melts away some of Claire’s icy front.
“Do I look okay?” she asks nervously, and I nod.
“You look hot. You always do, but definitely tonight.”
She smiles, then frowns.
“Sorry I’m such a bitch,” she says, then wraps me in a hug. I laugh, and it’s genuine. She’s so moody and stubborn. She always has been. But she’s also a cream puff. “I’m just so freakin’ nervous.”
“Forgiven and forgotten.” I pull away and hook my arm with hers. “Let’s go.”
Like every other party, we head to the kitchen, but this time, I’m the one cracking open a seltzer and taking a sip.
“This is disgusting,” I say after I swallow. “It’s worse than that sparkling-flavored water. I didn’t even know that was possible.”
