Page 62 of No Interest in Love

“You can still work for me.” I offer up a grin, but it’s pretty lackluster.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you wouldn’t want to work with me.”

“I don’t care what you think, I need you to get me auditions.”

She rolls her head to face me. “I’d lose all my contacts. And getting fired from one agency puts a damper on my chances of getting into a new one.”

“Eh, I still think you could do it.”

“You are theonlyperson who thinks that.”

I swipe my card through the ATM. “I think you’re too hard on yourself. Anyone with eyes can see how anal you are about your work.”

“There’s a compliment in there somewhere, right?”

I give her a half smile, then tap onBalance Inquiry. She tosses her head back against the wall.

“I’m not going to hear the end of it from my parents. They’ll bring up that meme and the fact that it’s hindering every single career choice I make, even though my meme fame totally got us a ride from California to New Mexico—”

“Shay?”

“…and I just know they’re going to tell me to move back home. I can’t live at home. I’m twenty-seven years old, for Pete’s sake—”

“Shay.”I gently pull her next to me and point at the ATM screen. “Never give up,” I say as Shay takes in the positive account balance in my checking. She punches her fist straight into the air.

“Never surrender!”

Her arms fall onto my shoulders, and I hoist her legs around my hips. I squeeze her back, knowing that if her head wasn’t over my shoulder, I probably would’ve kissed her in a moment of delirious joy. She feels good here. My legs are beat and I’m majorly light-headed, but I’m conscious enough to know that I don’t want to drop her. I want to hold on to this used-to-be pain in my ass.

But this isn’t a movie where the camera pans out and the audience is left with the never-ending embrace of two characters. So all too soon I have to loosen my grip and let her slide to the floor, which action in itself is pretty damn amazing.

“I think I know what you want,” she says, a smile spread on her sweaty face. Yeah, I want to know what the hell she’s doing to me.

But of course, that’s not what I say.

“Meatball sub?”

Her smile widens. “Meatball sub.”

8:00P.M.

Giant meatballs,

on a soft, warm bun,

with marinara sauce.

Where have you been all my life?

9:15P.M.

“That was the best damn meal I’ve ever eaten.”

“You think you would’ve gotten more of it in your mouth.” Shay points at the marinara droplets on my T-shirt.

“Ah, seconds,” I say, pretending to lick them off. Her nose crinkles up and she shoves me for being gross.

We only have to cross the street to get to a motel. The door leading to the lobby sticks, so I grab it with both hands and yank it open for Shay. She slides in and the handle hits me in the ass when it shuts.

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