Page 59 of You Spin Me

She takes an abrupt step back. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have??—”

God help me, I grab her hand. It’s a risk, because I may not be able to let go. “Jess. It’s okay. When I’m talking to you on the phone, I can handle all this, no problem.” I rub a thumb over the soft skin of her hand. Softer than anything I’ve ever felt. “But for this conversation, I need all my focus. Can we do it another time?”

The expression “face like an open book” could have been coined for her. Disappointment, frustration, anger and resignation march right across it, one after the other. Suddenly, she grabs my other hand and grips both fiercely.

“I’ll wait.” Without breaking eye contact, she points to the lounge on the other side of the glass. “I’ll be out there when you’re done tonight.”

She releases my hands and turns to leave, but before I move an inch, she’s back, hands on the arms of my chair. Her lips meet mine, a whisper-soft brush followed by a firm press that melts any resolve I thought I was hanging onto.

She pulls back, straightens and points at the clock behind me. “No sneaking out without me.”

This time when she turns to go, she doesn’t stop.

Me? I’ve fallen, and I don’twantto get up.

The rest of my shift,time is a slippery concept. After Jess leaves, the clock hands stop, but before I know it, they read one forty-five. Then the final fifteen minutes stretch out for years. When Wayne steps in for his shift, all I’ve been able to do during the final song of my set is stare at the disc spinning on the felt. My closing tasks are a mountain I can’t seem to climb. I put things in the wrong place, get the dates and times wrong on my notes and generally stumble around until Wayne orders me out because I’m harshing on his groove.

Mumbling an apology, I stagger out to the lounge. At first I don’t see her, but then I find her curled up on one end of the couch, my dog snoring away at her feet. Moving carefully so as not to disturb either of them, I perch on the coffee table to take her in. Sheisthe girl in the neon-green dress. I knew she’d be pretty, but this sleeping beauty makes a mockery of the word. She’s so captivating I could sit here for the rest of my days. I could die right now and be happy.

But my dog has other ideas. Once her one eye opens, she’s ready to go. Poor thing needs her walk. Speaking of which, Phil’s waiting on me. So instead of shushing Blondie, I let her whining and wriggling wake Jess.

“Hey, princess.”

She must’ve been completely out. After her eyes bat open, she looks around the space in confusion.

“Sorry to wake you, but I’ve got to get somewhere.”

She sits up quickly. “But you said—I waited?—”

“You can come with me if you want, but I have to go. My friend Phil has food waiting for me, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Standing, I hold out my hand. When she takes it, I swear I hear music—and it’s not whatever weird shit Wayne’s spinning. A melody soars inside my chest, and for once, I am the prince in a fairy tale.

JESS

The outside air is bracing after the stuffy warmth of the studio. After he closes and locks the back door, Cal takes my hand to tuck it in his coat pocket along with his own. His other hand holds a leash connected to a dog that I’d assumed was some sort of company mascot. After the dog does her business in a patch of snow, he tips his head away from the building. “You coming?”

I have an audition tomorrow morning. I should be in bed. But it seems worth the risk of giant eye circles to say yes to this offer. I get the feeling it doesn’t happen often. If ever. So I follow.

“You hungry?”

Momentarily muted by the charge sizzling from his hand to mine, I finally manage, “Is anything open?”

“Only if you have connections,” he answers before turning into an alley I’d never think of venturing down on my own. Cal is a guardian in more ways than one. I knew he’d be sexy the first time I heard that voice, but I didn’t expect wide shoulders and a muscled build on a guy who sits in front of a mic for a living. Of course, I couldn’t have known that he never stops moving when he’s spinning.

Moments later, we’ve arrived at a nondescript building with a neon sign proclaiming “BAR.” Cal ushers me and the dog inside. It’s after hours, so no one else is here, but when as sit at the bar, a voice calls from the kitchen. “Be there in a sec, Cal.”

When a barrel-chested man steps in from the kitchen carrying a covered plate, the expression on his face confirms that a date on Cal’s arm is rare, maybe even a first.

“Phil, this is Jessica. Jessica, Phil.”

I reach out to shake Phil’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He sets down the plate in front of Cal. “Uh, we’re closed, officially, but I may be able to locate a beverage for you that someone forgot to serve. Like this beer here.” He sets a sweating pint glass in front of Cal.

I study the rows of bottles behind him and the taps down the bar. In the summer, I’m a G&T girl but it’s a bit cold for a cocktail. “Maybe a glass of red wine?”

He nods before turning around to peruse the shelves. Selecting a bottle, he holds it up to the light before emptying the remaining contents into two glasses, handing me one and lifting the other in a salute before taking a sip himself. “This’d be no good by tomorrow. Can’t let it go to waste.” He tilts his head toward the kitchen. “Can probably find some eats for you if you’d like.”

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