Page 59 of Dear Pink

We stand there in the middle of the bar, grinning at each other like lovesick puppies. This night is unbelievable. Bastard-Jack doesn’t mean a thing to me. For reals. Expressing it out loud feels fan-fucking-tastic.

After a few more minutes of silence, I drag Mr. Fancy to June and Maude’s table. They collected a few new friends and there isn’t room for us. I introduce him, and June gives me a thumbs up when Gabe turns his back.

“Hey.” He puts his mouth close to my ear, and his hot breath tickles. The warmth gives me shivers. “You wanna stay or do you wanna go do something else?”

Hell yeah, I want to do something else. I’ll start by tearing off your clothes. Let me show you how much I’m over my stupid ex-boyfriend.

“Okay,” I say instead, trying to keep my emotions together.

“You sure?” He gestures to the table of women.

I nod. “Hey, June, Maude, we’re gonna head out.” I give them a knowing grin, hoping they read the situation.

Maude mouths, “naughty girl,” and I gasp, but June pinches her arm and says, “Go, have fun, you two.” She squeezes me tight. “Thanks for inviting us tonight. This bar’s great, especially the entertainment.”

“Best ever Long Island iced teas,” Maude says, her words a little slurred.

I wag my eyebrows at them, and June winks at me. No doubt they will order more before the night’s done.

Gabe takes my guitar from me and slings the strap over his shoulder. I follow behind him, making our way out of the bar. He pushes open the heavy door, and the silence outside falls around us. A light breeze hits my bare arms.

“Let's walk a bit,” I say to Gabe after I put the guitar in the trunk of my car.

“Great.” He takes my hand, and we stroll along the street, passing open-air bars and picnic tables full of young people.

When a park comes into view, I drop his hand and run to the swings. I jump on the highest one and barely touch the ground with my feet. Gabe comes around my backside and pushes. Neither of us speaks, listening to the distant voices and the hum of the city.

I swing into the clouds and my stomach does an upside-down backward twist. “Okay, time to slooooow down.”

Gabe sits on the swing beside me and watches me jump off onto the dirt path. I land like a gymnast, arms straight in the air.

“10.0 from the Russian judge,” Gabe says, standing up.

I turn around and throw myself into his hard chest. He holds me and takes my lips in a gentle kiss. The sweet softness feels like a new beginning.

“Seeing you on stage tonight was smoking,” he says, a wicked expression on his face. “I didn’t know you could sing and play the guitar.”

Flattery from such a sexy man sparks fireworks in my stomach. “That electric guitar guy carried me through the two songs. I had tons of fun singing and playing, though.” I giggle, exhilarated by the night’s excitement.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier about your performance? I almost turned off my phone and went for a ride around the lake. I expected a text from a dog owner. It’s the only reason I saw your message.”

“I decided at the last minute.”

This is the time to tell him Libby’s story, but I’d hate to ruin the night with tales of death. He thinks I’m brave and fantastic. I don’t want to tell him my best friend made me do it. If we get in deeper, I’ll tell the truth about the bucket list and the crazy activities I’m doing in the name of best-friendship. Gabe and I are too new. Are we boyfriend and girlfriend or friends who kiss and have mind-blowing sex? Plus, there’s the Elise factor lurking in the wings. If I want to keep having outrageous orgasm-inducing sex, then I can’t kill the mood with serious conversation.

“I’m glad you saw my text and that you came tonight.”

He cups my face with his large hands. His lips meet mine and this time his kisses are urgent, beyond a tentative hello, more like a hot damn, baby, let’s get it on. I’m totally on board.

Soon, we’re panting, our hands roaming over one another. A bird chirps, and I remember we’re in a public park in the middle of Dallas.

I remove myself from him. “Gabe,” I whisper.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, breaking our kiss. “Kinda forgot we were in a park.”

“You riding tomorrow?” I ask, the blood pumping hard in my chest.

“Have to work. You?”

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