Page 24 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
“Easy,” Linc says with an easy smile. “I have the perfect starting place.”
“And what’s that?”
“You need to get out of your head.”
“Ha!” Suddenly Mia is back in the conversation. “Good luck with that. I’ve been her best friend for years, and I’ve continuously failed to accomplish that. You’re talking to the queen of overthinking.”
“You shush,” I say to Mia, who gives me a wink before returning to her conversation with Wyatt. “And you, Mr. Know It All. How do you propose that I get out of my head?”
Linc doesn’t say anything at first, just giving me a devilish smile as he leans over to the table in front of us that has an array of liquor bottles scattered on it. He picks up one that says Fireball,and as someone who takes fire safety very seriously, I already know this isn’t a good idea. “We’re going to take a shot.”
“Oh no,” I say, remembering the last time I took shots and puked for three days. “I’m not a shot girl. Or even a drinks girl.”
“This isn’t very strong,” he says, pulling up four plastic shot glasses. “Plus, it tastes like cinnamon gum.”
Well that sounds better than the black licorice demon water. “I understand what you’re thinking, Linc. And I’m sure it would help loosen me up, but I haven’t drank since?—”
Just as I’m about to explain to Linc about my aversion to alcohol, I get an eyeful of Jonathan across the bar. Linc was right, heisstaring. And not in a covert way. The man isn’t blinking. It’s unsettling.
And to think I was going to reach out to him this week because I was lonely. Maybe I need to do shots just as punishment for that moment of weakness.
But as a chill goes down my spine from Jonathan’s gaze, I can’t help but think about what he said to me before Linc saved me.
I am drinking the same mocktail. I did go to the same bar with the same friend. I visited my family this week—twice. Jonathan’s right: I am predictable. Boring. The only exciting things that happen to me are through my siblings. And, most importantly—and depressing—is that I’m the same person I was when Jonathan and I broke up.
Not that I’m a bad person then or now. I love myself and who I am. But clearlythatAinsley isn’t going anywhere. She’snot dating or married. She’s not fulfilling her dream of having a family and a career. She’s not traveling or living it up.
She’s scared and waiting.
Well, not anymore.
“Frick it,” I say to try to pump myself up. “Give me the shot.”
“Excuse me!”
Mia flies from the chair she was sitting in next to Wyatt and nearly throws herself on my lap. “Did I hear what I think I just heard?”
“You did,” I say, suddenly growing confidence I didn’t know I had. “Pour me the shot, Linc.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, giving me a wink before signaling Wyatt to come over to join us.
I start to feel a little out of body as I watch Linc pour four shots into glasses, and then I feel a tug on my arm. “Are you sure? You know you don’t have to do this.”
I love Mia, and this is why she’s my best friend. She knows this isveryout of the norm for me. She might be excited, but at the same time, she’d be remiss if she didn’t triple-check to make sure that an alien didn’t possess me in the last ten minutes.
“I’m more than sure,” I say, unable to stop myself from looking back at Jonathan. Mia follows my eyes, and because she’s my work wife who knows everything about me, she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I don’t want to be the same girl from two years ago. And nothing changing means nothing will change. So let’s change it up.”
She smiles and brings me in for a side hug. “I like that mentality. But just one. Two, tops. You’re still Ainsley Banks, and I feel like baby steps are the best option.”
“Agreed,” I say as Linc passes the filled glasses. As soon as I have it in my hand, the strong smell of cinnamon hits my nostrils.
“Oh mylanta!” I say, shaking a bit just from the smell.
“That’s about right,” Wyatt says. “Send it! To douchebags and bad singing!”
I watch as the three of them somehow know to tap the glasses on the table before throwing them back. I don’t do that. Instead, I hold it up in front of my face, looking at it like it might grow legs and attack me.
“You can do it,” Linc says softly, his hand resting on the small of my back. “And if it helps you right now, Dr. Dipshit looks like he wants to murder me because I’m touching you. And I don’t blame him. If I fumbled you, and you moved on? I’d hate the man touching you, too.”
