Page 16 of Mr. Merry Ex-Mas
He approaches and grabs the empty seat next to me. “What are you doing here?”
I snort into my drink, then clear my throat, side-eyeing him. “She texted you, didn’t she?”
He shrugs. “I plead the fifth.” He nods to the bartender, who comes over and makes small talk before bringing him a beer and a shot.
“Whoa. Going hard tonight, huh?”
His lips twitch as he takes the shot, then chases it with the beer. “Why do you bait me?”
I roll my eyes but cover my smile with my glass. I’m on my second glass of wine, and because I didn't eat, they’re hitting faster than usual. If I want to keep my wits about me, I need to slow this train down.
He sits back and crosses his arms. “So, is the gala still on track to ruin us emotionally?”
“Define on track.”
He takes a long pull from his beer. “Only if you define emotionally.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Defineus.”
That gets a grin out of him. “Look at you, all sharp and witty. Did I show up during your villain era?”
“You put me in my villain era.”
He raises his glass. “Well, then. To your inevitable descent into chaos.”
“To your inevitable involvement in it.” I clink mine against his.
We fall into an easy rhythm of conversation mixed with banter, just like old times, and he’s my best friend again. There’s lots of talk about the mayor liking the mistletoe placements, the food vendor who insists on calling me “Miss Sadie” like I’m a kindergarten teacher, and the very real possibility that my sister will go into labor during the gala.
“I could be the doctor on call.”
I almost choke on my drink. “Do that and Matt will kick your ass.”
He shrugs. “I could do it if I had to. I’ve taken all those CPR courses for the school.”
I burst into laughter. “Hmm. CPR and delivering a baby are completely different. But I've no doubt you could do it. You’djust slap on that dumb smile and cute dimple, and the baby would just jump into your arms, right?”
“You think my smile’s dumb?” he asks in faux-offense.
I glance at him. “You know how to use it to get everything you want. Don’t act like you don’t know it.”
His expression relaxes. “You remember the last time we were here?” he asks, playing with the coaster his beer came on.
I glance toward the booth in the corner. “Yeah. We danced to that god-awful cover band. You spilled beer on my shirt.”
“You looked hot in a wet-T-shirt-contest kind of way.”
I smirk. “You said it made me look like I survived a bar fight.”
“I stand by that. You pulled it off.”
“You were just distracted by my see-through shirt.”
He leans in slightly, his voice low. “You’ve always looked good in a little chaos.”
And there it is. Those one-liners that make me fall each time. Those one-liners that make me remember the fun, the calm, the silly, all the things that made being with Danny some of the best times I’ve ever had, once I let myself allow it.
He continues, “You still kissed me that night.”
