Page 71 of No Place Like You

He stops and clears his throat when he notices me sidle up to Lucy. I wrap my arm around her waist, and she turns to face me. “Hey!” she exclaims as her eyes light up and her smile brightens. “How’s Janet?” she asks.

“She’s got some things she needs to take care of in her office, but she’s going to head out after that. Charles just got here, so he’s going to take her home.”

The bartender slides a drink in front of Lucy—a Coke, it looks like—and he eyes her carefully. Lucy nods a polite thank you to him and takes a long sip from the skinny black straw. “I got a little thirsty,” she explains. “And I wanted something a little sweet. Want some?” She offers the straw she just drank out of in my direction, and I take a sip.

She grins at me, and I realize it doesn’t matter if this bartender was flirting with her. Whether or not he offered a little extra attention in hopes to gain some of hers. Because she wasn’t going to give it. He’s not the one she’s smiling at the way she’s smiling at me right now. He’s not the one she offered a sip of her drink, not even bothering to add a fresh straw or asking if I mind exchanging germs. She probably wouldn’t have given him the time of day even if she were wearing a clock necklace like Flavor Flav had it not been for the necessity for some sort of refreshment on her end.

“You ready to go home?” I ask, taking the camera from her and gently placing it in the bag I’ve been carrying all night.

“God, yes,” she breathes. “I have about an hour left in these heels before I Cinderella the hell out of them.”

“Did you just turn Cinderella into a verb?”

“I did, didn’t I?” she answers with a proud smile.

My brow shoots up. “That takes a special kind of talent.”

She smiles, and her nose scrunches as she takes one last long sip of her drink. She turns the straw in my direction, letting me have the rest, and she places it on the bar top. “Thank you, Matt,” she says politely to the bartender. He’s not wearing a name badge or anything, so he must have told her his name. He probably even weaved in some lie about how he’s not really a bartender but an actor about to make his big break on Broadway while using some cheesy pick-up line like, “So…you come here often?”

“Yeah, thank you, Matt,” I add sardonically before we turn to leave. My hand rests on her lower back—okay, maybe a little lower, hovering closer to ass region—and we leave the gallery.

Once outside, Lucy turns to me. “Are you going to pee on me next, Mr. Jealous?”

I give a crooked smile, looking equally pleased and amused. So shedidnotice. “Now, that’s just unsanitary,” I answer. “How about we just get my name tattooed across your chest? You know, in big block letters.”

She gives an assertive, unyielding shake of her head. “Nuh-uh,” she says firmly. “It’s olde English font or bust.”

“Anything you want, baby.”

We walk in silence, our hands lingering on each other and the city sounds mingling with the clicks of our footsteps. And a thought occurs to me. Something that makes me rethink why I acted like a possessive caveman who actually thought peeing on this woman wouldn’t have been a bad idea. “If, uh, that was a little too much, I’m sorry.”

She turns to face me with an adorable tilt in her head and a confused blink.

“I mean,” I continue, “you, we—me and you—it’s not like we’re…I mean, I guess it’s a little complicated between us, and if you wanted to talk to other people or?—”

“Dex,” she interrupts in a pleading voice.

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry if that was inappropriate.”

She stops walking and turns to face me, giving my hand two quick tugs to get my attention. “Dexter,” she says, leaning into me. “You’re the only person I want to be ‘talking to.’”

I feel like a slew of bright hot fireworks are burstinginside my chest. “Yeah?”

She nods, her smile matching mine. And then she shrugs a shoulder with that sly smirk she has when she’s about to tease me with something impish and playful. “But I kinda like you all jealous and a little overprotective.”

“Oh, do you?”

She giggles. “It’s cute watching you get all huffy and puffy like you’re about to ram horns with another man.”

“I did not get all huffy and puffy!”

She tilts her head back and laughs, and I swear I fall harder for this woman.

32

Lucy

Countdownto zero hour has officially begun. It’s the last week of my internship. A bit of a turning point, not just work wise but life wise. After this week, I’ll be heading to Honolulu for Nat and Hayden’s wedding. And after that, I’ll be saying goodbye to Dexter and going back home, making good on our agreement that we’ll go on with our lives. I’ve been ignoring the niggling, gnawing realization of what life will be like after this. Will it be drab, maybe a little monotonous and depressing? Or will I slide back into the life I had before I moved out here without a second thought? The latter felt practically laughable. How could I forget about my life here with Dexter as if we haven’t grown too comfortable with each other?

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