Page 20 of Dear Adam
“Aly?” Hudson asks. “Did you hear me?”
“Of course I did,” I say even though I most definitely did not.
“Then let’s go tonight?” Hudson says, annoyed. “I’ll call and see if I can pay extra or something for a good table since we didn’t make reservations.”
I grab the vase that had almost fallen to the floor earlier and fill it with water from the sink, pretending Hudson doesn’t exist. Instead, I think of the way Levi’s calloused hands cradled mine when we both reached to save this vase, and how they fit so perfectly together.
I plop the flowers Hudson brought me into it and do a poor job of hiding the look on my face when I notice they’re from Fourth Street Flowers. I have no problem with women supporting women. I’m actually all about it. But, they are our biggest competition and haven’t exactly been the friendliest since we opened. Hudson must notice me staring at the sticker on the outside of the bouquet.
“I’ve always bought my flowers from there. They do such a good job, don’t they? Probably one of the best in town.” I blink once, then twice, trying to formulate a response to that.
“Hudson, you do knowIown a flower shop, right?” I ask, incredulously gesturing at the store around us.
“So, dinner tonight?” he says, completely ignoring me. I’m so bewildered, I’m convinced he didn’t hear me.
Before responding, I attach Pretzel’s leash to her collar, then move to the light switch by the front door and flip it off. The soft glow disappears, and I turn the open sign over.
“I can’t tonight either, Hudson. It’s taco night with Emma.” Hudson looks utterly defeated, and my heart sinks the tiniest bit. I can’t stand to disappoint anyone so when I say, “Maybe another time though?” Instantly, I want to inhale the words right back in.
“How about next week then?” he asks, his expression far too eager for me to say no outright.
I sigh and try not to glance at Levi, to see what he thinks of all this. “That works,” I tell Hudson.
“Great. Oh, and Levi?” he asks, turning toward him. “It was great to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Levi answers dryly. We make our way outside, and I’m locking the door when Levi speaks up again, loud enough for Hudson to hear. “Aly?” When I look at him, he’s biting back a smirk. He glances towards Hudson and says, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh. I would give anything to have the look on Hudson’s face right now framed.
“What’s tomorrow morning?” Hudson asks, brow furrowing.
I ignore Hudson’s question and let my lips curl into a tiny smile. “See you then,” I say to Levi. With a huff, Hudson climbs into his fancy car and speeds off, and Levi takes off down the block.
I get in my own car with Pretzel and, a few minutes later, drive past Levi in time to witness him shoving Hank’s butt into the tiny backseat of a turquoise Mini Cooper. I roll down my window and wait for him to turn around, enjoying the view in the meantime. When he faces me, he instantly pales.
“It’s not mine,” he stammers.
“I think it’s cute.” I stifle a chuckle with my fist and roll up my window, wondering exactly what I’m getting myself into, making plans with my childhood crush.
“Well, was it any good at least?” Emma asks, referring to Hudson’s kiss. She spoons another dollop of sour cream onto her taco.
“It was…a kiss?” I say with a shrug. We’re sitting outside at our favorite Mexican restaurant, trying to enjoy our margaritas and tacos. Unfortunately, Pretzel has nearly knocked over the table twice by wrapping her leash around the legs and then bolting for anything that catches her eye.
“Come on. Give me some details. Tongue, no tongue? Chin caressing? I want to know it all.”
“I mean…his lips are soft? I don’t know what you want, Emma. It lasted half a second. I didn’t feel the Earth move beneath my feet, if that’s what you’re asking.” I take another chip from the bowl sitting between us and dip it into the guacamole.
She takes another bite and nods her head, clearly thinking while she chews. “So did Levi look like every dream you’ve had of him since you were a kid?”
“I don’t dream about him,” I say in a voice that’s about two octaves too high.
She narrows her eyes. “Why can’t you just admit you like his butt?”
“Emma!” I scold, and great, now Iamthinking about his butt in those perfectly worn and faded Wranglers…again.
“Fine, whatever,” she says and holds a chip under the table for Pretzel.
“You know you’re not sneaky if I can hear her crunching on it, right? Besides, she’s going to expect people food at every meal now.”
