Page 26 of Before Eve
My friendship with him definitely seems to border on something more. He’s still flirting, I don’t think he knows hownotto flirt, but it’s more low-key, and it simmers an ongoing liquid warmth in me that both confuses me and makes me feel…womanly.
“When are you going to cave and go out with the dude?” Anne asks me during our lunch break on a Friday afternoon.
“We’re just friends.”
“Mmmhmm. You keep telling yourself that.”
But we really are, and I like it. All of it.
“I told him to be tender with you.” She bats her lashes. “That you were one of the good ones.”
“You did not!”
“Youareone of the good ones. He’s probably used to waving his finger and getting what he wants. He’s never met anybody like you. You keep making him work for it.”
“I’m not trying to make him work for it.”
“That’s what’s so great about it.” Anne grabs our hot dog wrappers and tosses them into the trash. She sits back down beside me on the stage and nods to my guitar propped in my lap. “Ready?” she asks.
“Your pick,” I tell her. We do this a lot. Pick a silly song to sing.
She pulls out her harmonica, thinks for a second, and then starts “Lollipop.” With a smile, I pick the notes on my guitar, and she begins singing extremely loudly and even more off-key. God, I adore her.
When she’s done, she nods her head, and I turn to see West. He’s being trailed by two female reporters. One is snapping pictures and the other one is asking him questions. Both are a littletooup in his personal space. But he doesn’t appear bothered. If the camera and reporters get any closer, I’ll make an excuse and leave. A picture of me popping up is not what I need, even if I am just in the background.
I tug my ball cap further down and watch as the petite one leans in, giggling like a hyena. West is funny. But he’s not thatfunny.
Anne gives me a nudge. “Jealous?”
“No. There’s nothing to be jealous about. West and I are just friends.”
“Well, ‘just friends’ don’t give the look you just gave.”
West says goodbye to the reporters and crosses the grass coming toward us. He gives us a little wave. “I saw you guys from back there. You were having a little toomuch fun for lunch break. What song were you singing?”
“‘Lollipop’,” Anne tells him and does a quick rip on her harmonica.
West jumps up onto the stage beside me and scoots over until his thigh is touching mine. One small week ago I would’vescooted away, but not now. I really like that I’m becoming normal and comfortable.
“You two need to take your act on the road,” he says.
I nod to Anne. “She’s the talent, all off-key and everything.”
“Hey!” Anne fakes offense.
“We’ll be in New York tomorrow,” West says. “You two excited?”
“Definitely!” Anne immediately answers. “Madison Square? I can’t wait!”
Excitedly, I nod, recalling that coffee shop back in Chicago where we looked at the map of New York. Does West ever think about that?
The Bugs Bunny in the center of my blue shirt draws his focus. “Wow, you had some blue peepers before, but that shirt, combined with your hair, is making your irises almost ridiculous right now.”
“The color makes them pop,” Anne chimes in.
But I barely hear her as I stare into West’s warm dark gaze and get a little lost. Something shifts then, an awareness between us, and heat creeps into my cheeks. I tell myself to break the contact, to look away, but I don’t. All of my attention goes straight to our touching thighs.
He looks right at my lips. I hope they look okay. I wiped them after my hot dog. Theyshouldlook okay.
