Page 59 of Third Time Lucky

I vaguely remember Calamity’s brother and his man showing up and saying a quick hello before disappearing onto the packed makeshift dance floor. We resisted temptation, unwilling to give up our prime real estate to the college kids crowding in around us.

Maybe I am getting old.

Nah. That’s quitter talk.

I pop a pretzel in my mouth and notice Elliot watching me. “What?”

“You look like you’re having a good time.”

“I am,” I assure him, leaning in so he can hear me over the crowd. “I missed out on this whole experience. No keg stands, no drunken club parties. I was all-work-and-no-play Joey for years.” I frown at the term. “I need to come up with a new saying. Technically most of my babysitting duties included play times, so… All-work-and-no-social-life Joey? It doesn’t have the same ring, does it?”

“I play baseball. All-work-and-no-life Elliot. At least you’ve been in a relationship before.”

I grimace at that. “Don’t call it that. I was an ATM. Cheated on and dumped. I’m not even happy that he just did the same thing to the woman he left me for. I mean, score one for karma, but I still feel like a moron.”

Elliot’s expression turns icy. “If you give me his name and address, I’ll go make him feel worse.”

That’s hot. Should that be so hot? “Thank you for offering, but he’s not worth it. I’ve moved on.”

“With the guy in the elevator?”

I’m mid-swallow when he asks, so there are some undignified bubbles and a loud snort that follows. Once I was expecting. But twice? “Stop. He was great, and he’s going to make someone very happy someday with his cakes and flexibility. But it won’t be me.”

“Good.”

Good?I want to take a deep dive into that, but then I hear the opening lyric that makes me shout along with the rest of the crowd and hop to my feet while Elliot looks on, his expression of shock one for the photo album.

I’m cryyyyying

Cuz I looooove you

Calamity obviously shares my love of this Lizzo song, because she’s lip-synching into her beer bottle to our thoroughly seduced bartender. When she sees my reaction, the beer hits the bar and she grabs my hand. “I knew I liked you, babysitter. Now come on, and shake your Manny maker.”

It’s a remix of the original, but it still has that funky sway that we’re both following drunkenly with our hips, not bothering with the dance floor because it’s too crowded as it is.

Most of the bar is singing about being love-impaired when I glance over in Elliot’s direction with a laugh.

His expression makes my heart stutter. He has this endearingly lost look on his rugged features, like he’s not quite sure how he got here, but he might like it.

Straight?

Calamity Kate leans toward him and snags his hand in hers, tugging him off his stool to join us. Elliot starts to shake his head, looking to me for help, but I just shrug and shimmy while she gets her way.

He may as well give in. He needs this as much as I do, especially after the stress of the last few months.

I smirk when he stumbles into me and then stares at Calamity in surprise.

“She’s little, but she’s strong,” he says, leaning closer to be heard over the chorus of drunken revelers.

“It’s that Finn blood,” I tell him, knowing Calamity can read my lips. “They’re all forces of nature.”

I think he mutters something about hurricanes, but then the music transitions. Same artist, but this time the song is one he might actually know. What are the odds?

Seriously.

“Isn’t this a Bee Gees cover? Looks like the universe wants you to dance, neighbor.”

Disco has never been my go-to dance music, but watching the sea of college students and boxers transform into their grandparents—complete with their own versions of hustling, funky chickens and that infamous disco finger—is impossible to resist.

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