Page 8 of Courtney
“I was,” I shrug. “But I lost my copy.”
“Oh, of course.” Courtney stops and unzips her bag. “I didn’t realize it until just this moment, but I think I’ve been reading your copy.”
“How do you figure?”
“When you and I first unofficially met at the coffee shop,” she starts to explain.
I noticed her before that day, but I don’t tell her that.
“I found your copy ofThe Juiciest Fruit.” She hands me the tattered paperback. “Did Maxine make you read her books to become familiar with her work?”
“Something like that.” I don’t want to lie to Courtney, so I try to steer the conversation in a different direction. “You keep it. I’ve read enough of it.”
“You didn’t like it?” She asks, there an edge to her voice that makes me wonder if she’s asking me something else, something more.
“I thought it delivered on what it promised.”
“Are you trying to be vague on purpose?”
I stop and turn to look at her. “Are you being direct on purpose?”
The corner of her mouth quirks up in a smile. “I’ve been told that sometimes I can be too direct with people I’ve only just met.”
“I don’t mind.” I smile back at her.
“Good.”
COURTNEY
If Max had given me ten guesses to where he was taking me tonight, I wouldn’t have guessed it. He’s brought me to an axe throwing bar
“You don’t want to cross this line.” The instructor points down towards his feet. “The potential for the axe ricocheting off the target and bouncing back towards you is entirely possible. You want to keep a safe distance, so that you can avoid getting struck.”
I glance over at Max and he has an excited grin on his face.
“Who wants to go first?”
Max turns and meets my gaze. “Ladies first.”
“Please, don’t pretend you’re being a gentleman,” I tease. “You just want me to go first in case something goes wrong, so you don’t mess up that pretty face of yours.”
Both Max and the instructor laugh.
“Your girl is a bit of a firecracker,” he says to Max.
Max doesn’t correct him that we are on our first date but smiles and nods his agreement. I like that he isn’t afraid of being labeled as something more even on a first date.
I line up my feet on the line as I was instructed to do and hold the axe over my head with two hands. Drawing my hands back, I thrust my hands forward and let go, sending the axe sailing through the air and into the center of the painted target. It lands with a satisfyingthunk.
“Bullseye in one!” I shout, and spin around.
Max and the instructor both stare at me with their mouths slightly open in surprise. The instructor recovers quicker than Max and glances over at him. He starts to chuckle under his breath at Max’s stunned face. He pats him on the shoulder before walking away and leaving us to our date.
“That was hot,” Max says.
“Your turn,” I smile at him using my best come hither look.
He shakes his head. “It’s probably best if I just stand here—behind this table—and let you have a few more turns.”
