Page 18 of The Weight Of Falling
“So lovely,” he repeats, slurring a little.
I take a small, uncomfortable step back. “Are you enjoying the wedding?” I ask politely.
He nods. “Yeah, but not as much as you, from the looks of it.”
I don’t ask what he means. I think I already know what he’s insinuating.
“Hey,” he says, shifting closer, not at all deterred by my silence, “I was wondering if you’d want to go out next Saturday night?”
“Go out? With you?”
“Yeah, on a date.”
I gape at him. He stood me up in the storeroom and now he’s asking me out? The sheer audacity of the man robs me momentarily of an answer. “I’m busy Saturday night,” I finally tell him.
“Busy with what?” he scoffs. “A book?”
A book, a bubble bath, and scented candles. It unsettles me that Bobby knows me so well.
“It doesn’t matter what I’m busy with,” I tell him, trying but failing to hide the hurt in my voice.
He laughs. “I knew it.”
I’m beginning to feel cornered. “I’m sorry, Bobby, but I’m not going out with you.”
“Come on, for old time’s sake. I know you’ve got nothing better to do.”
His smug little smirk traps the air in my lungs. I have to remind myself to breathe. This is a version of Bobby I haven’t seen before. I’m about to tell himnoagain, a word he doesn’t seem to understand, when Joel suddenly materializes at my side.
“Bobby, is it?” he asks conversationally.
Every muscle in my body tenses. Please,please,let him not have overheard my humiliating conversation with my ex-boyfriend.
“Yeah,” Bobby says warily, standing straighter in an effort to match Joel’s height. “Who are you?”
Joel smiles, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m Kenzie’s date for next Saturday.”
Bobby’s smirk falters a fraction. Fortunately, his loud “What?” drowns out my startled gasp.
Joel slips a casual arm around my shoulders, anchoring me to him. Bobby’s eyes narrow at the familiarity of the gesture.
“Kenzie’s going out with you?” Bobby asks doubtfully.
Ignoring him, Joel glances down at me. The look between us holds for a long moment. There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Anger? Concern? I can’t tell. But his expression feels like a dare.I challenge you to go along with this and stick it in your ex-boyfriend’s face.
I clear my throat. Before I even realize what I’m about to say, the words tumble out, “That’s right. I’m going out with Joel on Saturday. He’s my date. For Saturday.”
Joel squeezes my shoulder.Don’t overdo it, the squeeze says. Or it could be saying,stop talking. I’m not entirely sure. Joel has given me such a shock my emotional receptors are all over the place.
Bobby still has a disbelieving look on his face. “Hey, wait a minute, you’re the photographer. Don’t you date models and biker chicks? Kenzie’s not your type.”
It looks like Joel’s reputation precedes him. A hollow feeling settles in my stomach. Bobby’s right, I’m not the kind of woman Joel usually dates. If I had to guess, I’d say I’m the exception he’s making out of pity.
“I don’t have a type,” Joel tells him coldly.
Bobby motions to the two of us. “So, is it serious between you?”
“It’s none of your business,” Joel tells him, his tone even.
