Page 66 of How You See Me
I check on Josie and she’s coming this way, one hand hidden behind her back. That’s never a good sign.
Me:Gotta go. Love you.
I tuck my phone away as she drops to the blanket between my out-stretched legs. With Mom’s encouragement on the brain, I’m gravely aware of how close she is . . . and on her kneesfor fuck’s sake. She could place a hand on my leg just by reaching out, and I could do the same to her.
I’m desperately searching for a way to retreat without hurting her feelings when she holds out a beer bottle.
“Thank you.” I take a long drink, and the smooth liquid goes down like a cold shower. “What are you hiding?”
“Since you forgot your hat, I got you a replacement.”
“Josie.”
“Hayes,” she says with a southern drawl and bright smile.
She reveals a kid’s plastic cowboy hat—tan, glossy, and completely absurd.
“You didn’t?”
“Oh, you bet yer Wranglers, I did.” She lifts the hat to reveal a matching hot pink version underneath. “Got me one, too.”
A real laugh bursts out of me.
Proud of herself, she sets my hat down and hers on her head, securing the thin, elastic strap under her chin. Her blonde curls spill out from underneath. “What do you think?”
“It looks good.” Really good.
“Your turn, Cowboy.”
There is no universe in which I’d wear that thing without a gun to my head. Yet, my hand reaches without permission.
The hat, comically too small, sits high on my head, the short elastic strap dangling under my nose.
Josie’s impatience has her grabbing hold of the thin strap, stretching it under my jaw to secure thehat in place. It snaps, of course, slapping the tender skin under my eye on the recoil.
She squeals, covering her mouth with both hands. “That surprised me.”
“Really? You didn’t see that coming?”
Her hands stay put, trying to conceal how she’s laughing too hard to mutter an apology, until the breeze picks up. My so-called hat tumbles across the grass.
"Oh no!" She drops to all fours, crawling over my leg to catch it.
My eyes shoot up to the sky, the stage, the crowd in the opposite direction—anywhere but down her neckline and over those long, bare legs. I don’t need my willpower verified again. Life, as I know it, is a constant confirmation of my fortitude and perseverance. Still, I may not be equipped to handle this test.
She doesn’t even know the havoc she’s wreaking. Or maybe she does. Maybe she’s a full-blown wildfire pretending to be an ember. That’s the real danger here.
No matter what Mom thinks, letting Josie poke more holes in my world is not the answer. But damn if she doesn’t feel like acupuncture for my soul.
???
The music rumbles underground and in my rib cage, but it flows through Josie like water. She moves with the rhythm and sings along with every song—hands in the air, hair swishing across her back, skirt bouncing.
I snap a photo to remember this moment and how beautiful she is in it before she finds me over her shoulder.
Her fingers wiggle in my direction. “Come on.”
I shake my head, but it’s a weak resistance. Watching her, I wonder what benefits holding back has ever rewarded me and can’t think of a damn one.
