Page 15 of The Prodigal Son

“Good to see you again,” she says while curling some hair behind her ear and avoiding my gaze.

Gabby is a beautiful woman, but she’s also very shy and a little awkward. I never know what to say to her when we’re alone.

Which doesn’t make things better when our parents strike up a conversation with each other, leaving me and Gabby to fend for ourselves.

“You still working at the library?” I ask, taking a sip of my soda.

She nods. “Just a library tech for now. But I’m thinking about going back to school to get my master’s in library science.”

“That’s great,” I say, nodding and not knowing what else to say. Normally, I’m great at small talk. But every time I speak with her, or any woman for that matter, I feel so lost. I wish I could understand the disconnect.

“And you’re still preaching, right?” She picks at a hole in her jeans as she lets her gaze rake over my body.

“Yeah. Over at Redemption Point. You should come sometime.”

Please let’s talk about the church. I could do that for hours.

Her head tilts back and forth with little interest. “Maybe someday,” she says, which means never. “That’s so cool, though,” she adds. “I bet they love you there.”

For the first time tonight, her eyes meet mine, and I think there might be a spark of something. Hoping it’s a real connection, I hold her eye contact for longer than usual.

“I hope so,” I reply slowly, in a deeper timbre.

She definitely notices and licks her lips. I let my eyes scan her features, gauging my attraction with each pass.

Soft lips. Cute nose. Light-blue eyes. Bombshell-blonde hair.

I could see the attraction here. I could imagine myself kissing her lips if I tried hard enough. I imagine what it would feel liketo hold her body against mine. To roll on top of her and settle between her thighs.

I could do that easily.

Gabby and I make small talk for a while. Then we make our way to the bar, leaving our parents behind. She orders a spicy margarita, and I get a pint of Guinness. We share some nachos and talk about work, life and dating.

She teases me for my age and I tease her for hers, and before long, it feels more natural than it’s ever felt before.

I can do this.

Then, a song comes on the radio, playing through the speakers of the bowling alley. I mouth the words and tap my hand on the bar.

“I love this song.”

“Oh my gosh, me too!” she says, grabbing my arm. “I am obsessed with Theo Virgil!”

“His new album is incredible,” I reply, which is true. I am a big fan of Theo’s LPs, but this new one,Unholy Ghost, is his best work yet.

“His lyrics are so good,” she says, still holding my arm. “He just has a way of speaking to my soul.”

“Same,” I reply, but when I catch my reactions growing too enthusiastic or excited, I bite my tongue and school myself to keep it under control.

“I have tickets for his show in Phoenix.”

My eyes dart to her face and I freeze. I’ve been wanting to see Theo for so long, but I seem to miss all his shows.

“I’m very jealous,” I reply. I love that we have even more to talk about now. If she’s truly a big Theo fan, this could give us even more to bond over.

Then her eyes meet mine, and they widen. “Well, I was going to sell them. My friend had to cancel because of her anniversary, and I don’t want to go alone.”

Is she inviting me to go to Phoenix with her?

---