Page 29 of Rewrite the Rules

“Well, boss, you just gave me the shirt off your back in my time of need. You’re officially eligible for white knighthood.”

“I had another shirt for myself so I don’t know if it counts, but I’ll take all the chivalry points you’re willing to give.” He winks at me and the familiar swirl in my gut surges. That aching urge that never used to be there—the same one that made its insufferable debut the day I met Joel—returns to take center stage. This feeling was definitely not here just an hour ago when Derek was wrapped around me. If Joel were to touch me like that, I think I would combust. The feeling is so dangerously powerful, I’d succumb. I’d give him anything he’d ask for.

All he needs to do is ask…

“Well, thank you. I’m really sorry about all this.” I gesture up and down to the shirt dress I’m fashioning. “I’ll get this dry cleaned and returned to you by Monday.”

“Dry cleaned?” His face twists like I’ve offended him. He pulls off his glasses and tosses them on the desk. “Just give it back as is or keep it if it spares you the trouble.”

“Okay.” I hold up my spare key, now gleaming with my palm sweat. “Goodnight. Sorry…again…for the interruption. And thank you…again for the save.” I twist one sleeved arm in the air before heading toward the door, eager to put yet another awkward moment with Joel behind me. Far, far behind me.

“Adler, wait.”

I whip around to Joel turning off his monitors, collecting his wallet, keys, and phone from the silver bowl he keeps on his desk. “What’re you doing?”

“Driving you,” he answers matter-of-factly.

“Oh, no thanks. You know I live less than ten blocks from here. I’ll probably be home by the time you find your car in the parking garage.”

He crosses his arms, preparing for battle. “I doubt that. I have a dedicated spot. I know exactly where my car is.”

“I really prefer to walk.” I need the fresh air. I need to be alone.

“Fine,” Joel huffs. “We’ll walk.”

“It’s seriously not necessary. This is Denver, not New York City. I’ll be—”

“Adler.” I flinch at the sudden sternness in Joel’s voice. “I’m not letting you walk home alone looking like that. No offense, but you look like a late-night rendition of the walk of shame in my shirt and those boots. So, I’m going to walk with you to make sure you get home safely.”

“But—”

“End of discussion. Come on, Baby Spice. Grab your stuff.”

eleven

Joel

Adler’s arm brushes against mine as we walk side by side, putting the blocks of downtown Denver behind us. Even through the sleeve of my shirt, it feels like a popsicle. I slide my jacket off and drape it around her. She bunches the sides of it, girding it closed with her fingers. Her voice is chattery as she thanks me.

“You’re welcome. Why in the world would you go out tonight without a coat?”

“It’s unseasonably cold tonight. Normally temperatures don’t dip until November.”

“You didn’t check the forecast?”

“No, Grandpa. And plus, I hate carrying things into a bar. I always lose them. Hence losing my keys.”

We’ve filled the walk thus far with mindless chatter. Mostly hers. Conversation with Adler is like putting a quarter in a jukebox, closing your eyes, and pressing the first button your fingers find. I never know what’s going to play out. She talks about being front row at Justin Bieber’s Purpose tour one minute, dissects Kantian ethics the next, then it’s on to Harry Potter trivia, and she finishes with the grammatical misuse of effectversus affect. Her thoughts are a jerky roller coaster of twists and turns. A ride I will never tire of.

“I’ve missed this.” I meant to just muse in my head but the words fall out audibly.

“Missed what?”

“How we’re talking right now. You’ve been a little distant since…”

“Since I tried to kiss you in your car? Hm, yeah. I wonder why.” Adler half smiles and nudges me with her shoulder. “I was embarrassed. But we’re good now.”

“You sure?”

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