Page 59 of Night Shift

I clear my throat and suck my lips together.

“Shit. No wonder he was so calm.”

“Calm?”

“Yeah. I mean, all night, it was like he was a nervous wreck, and then suddenly he’s kicking back a tequila shot and he just says, I’m gonna ask her to come to the bar. No hesitation.”

I laugh weakly, because the alternative is crying on campus.

“That birthday party really crashed and burned, huh?” I ask.

Jabari hesitates. “Is Harper—”

“Okay?” I finish for him, my tone sharp again. “Not really. Thanks for that, by the way.”

He looks pained. “I don’t want you to have to be the middleman or anything,” he says, “but can I at least get a hint? She disappeared on me Thursday night. And she unmatched me, and she blocked my number. I know I can be a lot sometimes, but I really thought it was going well, so can you at least help me figure out where I might’ve fucked it up? She say anything to you?”

I want to tear him apart. I want to eviscerate him. But I decide to extend a small measure of patience to him in repayment for what he’s told me about Vincent.

“She told me you ditched her to be with another girl.”

Jabari rears back. “She what?”

“She saw you hanging out with another girl at Vincent’s birthday party. A blond.”

“My cousin?”

I arch an eyebrow.

“My dad’s side of the family is white as hell,” Jabari says. “Makayla’s a senior at UCLA, but they had the week off because they’re on the quarter system. She came up to visit.”

I scoff in disbelief.

“I’m not even playing. Hold on.”

Jabari tugs his phone out of his pocket. I watch a few droplets of rain land on the screen as he taps open his photos, pulling up a group shot of at least twenty people. He points out himself, his mother, his father, and then his father’s sister and her tall, blond daughter—who fits the description Nina gave me right down to the vague Speak Now–era Taylor Swift resemblance.

His cousin.

I sigh, scrub a hand over my face, and groan. “Fucking miscommunication.”

“What?”

“Look,” I say, turning on the bench to face Jabari, “Harper likes you. A lot. But she’s never going to chase a man down. She’ll never admit she’s got a sappy bone in her body, but I know she does—way down deep. So, you need to show her this family photo, and then you need to tell her how you feel. And you need to do it big. Flowers. Violins. Diamonds, if you’ve got that kind of budget. But if you’re not ready for that, then you should probably fuck off and leave her alone, because she’s way out of your league as it is.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Jabari shakes his head. “You and Vincent are really fucking alike, you know that?”

“Yeah,” I grumble. “I’m beginning to see that.”

“All right,” Jabari says, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands up. “I said my piece. Don’t tell Vincent I spoke to you, okay? Unless it goes well. Then I’ll take the credit.”

Unless it goes well.

My heart flutters. He wouldn’t say that unless there was a chance. Right?

---