Chapter 18

Two daiquiris and a dozen thin slivers of cake later, I was feeling more mellow than I'd have ever guessed, considering how awful the first part of the day had been.

Ten of us, including Joel, were crammed obscenely tight into a long booth designed for eight. For the third time, April called out to Joel, "Are you sure you don't want a beer or something?"

Joel glanced toward me and said, "Nah. I'm good."

Listening to this, I felt a twinge of guilt. To think, I'd invited him here, only to have him sit, stone-cold sober, while everyone around him got totally smashed.

Plus, he was the only guy at our booth. That had to be at least a little awkward, right?

Feeling guiltier than ever, I told him, "If you want to drink, I'm sure I could find someone here to give me a ride home."

He shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Why not?" I asked.

As an answer, his dark eyes scanned our surroundings. I turned and saw what he saw – people dancing, drinking, laughing, talking, and yes, in some cases, staggering.

The way it looked, there wasn't a sober person in sight.

I turned back to him and said, "Okay, how about this? I'll stop drinking, so you can."

His mouth twitched at the corners. "Or…" He leaned his head closer to mine. "You could have another daiquiri, and let me worry about getting us home."

Home. On his lips, that word sounded nice – nicer, in fact, than the reality of it all.

In some ways, the house hadn't seemed like a home for a very long time. But now, gazing into the soulful eyes of a guy who had, until today, been a total stranger, that sad reality seemed blissfully far away.

Joel was close – so achingly close. If I wanted to, I could kiss him. And I was pretty sure I did want to. Sure, I'd have to lift my head a little higher, and lean into him all sultry-like. But I definitely could kiss him. And who knows, he might even kiss me back.

I didn't want another daiquiri. I wanted to be someone else, if only for a few hours. I wanted to be the kind of girl who didn't spend her nights lying awake worrying, and her days working seasonal jobs that everyone assumed I did for kicks, rather than for the money.

Sadly, they assumed wrong.

And being the sentimental sap that I was, I couldn’t bring myself to correct them – and not only because I was embarrassed. Mostly, it was because it seemed like such a betrayal to my parents' memories, to admit to the whole world how badly they'd screwed everything up.

Damn it. I didn't want to think about this. I wanted a distraction, or heck, even a brand new life with a brand new name. Maybe if I were somewhere else, I could be the kind of girl who did what I wanted, and said exactly what was on my mind.

Or maybe – a crazy thought settled over me – I could be that girl right here, right now. I leaned closer to Joel, and the words I'd been wanting to say tumbled from my lips. "If you wanted, you could kiss me."

On Joel's face, I caught the hint of a smile. His gaze dipped to my lips, and I saw a flash of interest. Real interest. But then, he squashed my hopes by repeating the same three words he'd said just a few moments earlier. "Not a chance."

I drew back. "Why not?"

His gaze shifted to the curvy cocktail glass sitting right in front of me. The glass was empty. And next to that glass was another glass, also empty. And then, there was that tiny shot glass sitting off to the side.

I looked back to Joel. Trying to laugh off my humiliation, I said, "Are you implying that I'm drunk?"

"You're supposed to be drunk. It's your twenty-first, remember?"

As if I could forget. Pushing aside my embarrassment, I looked around the table and felt a goofy smile spread over my face. It was a smile of gratitude. And yes, maybe a fraction of that smile was fueled by the daiquiris. But mostly, I was incredibly thankful for the friends who'd come out celebrate with me.

Already, we'd been here for a couple of hours, and I'd been loving the chance to catch up with old friends and get to know the newer ones better. I'd already had cake, presents, and yes, more drinks than I'd normally want.

This wasn't my first time drinking, but it was my first time drinking legally. I looked back to Joel and said, "How about you? Are you twenty-one?"

As an answer, he made a point to look around, as if to say, "We are in a bar, remember?"

I had to laugh. "Forget I asked. So, when did you turn twenty-one?"

"Last year." He gave our surroundings another glance. "From what I remember, it was a hell of a party."

I bit my lip. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?"

"Nah. I'm good."

"Are you absolutely sure? Because honestly, I'm feeling kind of guilty."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I’m pretty sure you're the only sober person in here."

With a secret smile, he leaned closer. "You think that's a bad thing?"

"Um, well…" Whatever I'd been planning to say evaporated somewhere between my throat and tongue.

Just maybe, he'd kiss me after all.

I waited.

No kiss.

Damn it.

Maybe he had a girlfriend, or simply wasn't interested. Or maybe, he'd already had enough female attention for one day.

Suddenly, I was dying to know something. Trying to sound casual, I said, "Hey, just curious, did the interns ever catch you?"

"What interns?"

I didn't even know their names, because they'd arrived late and had missed the introductions. And then, they'd left early to chase after Joel.

But had they caught him?

I tried to sound like it was no big deal. "At my house, earlier today, there were a couple of girls who seemed really eager to meet you." I gave a nervous laugh. "I was pretty sure they chased you down in the driveway or something."

"Oh, them?" Joel shrugged. "Yeah, I met them."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?" From what I recalled, they'd both been quite attractive in that classic college-student sort of way. "Didn't you like them?"

"Eh, they were alright."

Normally, I wouldn't be so persistent, but whether it was because of the alcohol, or because of him, I couldn't bring myself to let it go. "But…?"

"But nothing. They weren't my type."

So, he had a type? Maybe I wasn't his type either. And yet, something in his gaze suggested otherwise.

I was swimming in unfamiliar waters. Usually, I was the one backing away. But with Joel, it was different. Everything was different.

I liked having him here. And I loved being close to him. I'd been sitting crammed up against him for at least two hours now. And the longer we sat here, the more my imagination ran wild.

Probably, he was a terrific kisser.

I was still considering this when, from the far side of the booth, April called out, "Hey, Melody!"

When I looked toward her, she said, "You've got to tell us. For your birthday, did your crazy aunt get you another stripper?"