Page 36 of New Girl in the City
“My name is Melinda,” I said, emphasizing the name in its entirety. “Only my friends call me Mel. And you are not my friend.” I felt my phone buzz in my purse, and I turned my head, seeing the sleek town car in front of the gallery. It was time to blow this popsicle stand. “And button your goddamn shirt up,” I said, when he opened his mouth to retort. I whirled back towards him because I wasn’t quite done yet.
“And you know what? Yes, I am a damn feminist, but that has nothing to do with what a jerk you are! Also, I don’t care what you think about men aging different, you just look stupid.”
I heard a chuckle from a woman nearby and I turned, giving her a ‘What the hell was I supposed to do?’ gesture, to which she nodded knowingly into her cup of wine. Wren stared on in shock, one of his hands coming up to his gaping shirt, fingers clutching at the fabric.
I laughed and shook my head, turning on my heel. I grabbed a third cup of wine on my way out the door. I was across the sidewalk and in front of the car in two seconds flat. Liam was already waiting for me with the door open.
“How was it?” he asked.
I pushed a cup of wine into his hand in answer. He looked down at it before looking back up at me with a smirk. “That bad, huh?”
“There was an ice sculpture. A really shitty one he made.”
“Cheer up. I’ll take us for a slice.”
“Please. Thank god.”
“Get in, Mel.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I gave him a watery smile and slid into the car. I must be a tiny bit buzzed, because I didn’t make an effort to hide that I was checking him out, craning my neck when he rounded the car to get in. He gave me a curious look when he got into the car and sniffed at the wine.
“This smells like shit,” he said, putting the wine cup into the center console cup holder.
“Smells like shit, but tastes like nothing,” I declared with a wave of my finger. “Gets you drunk just fine.”
He grunted. “That’s something at least.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes before I sucked in a deep breath and said, “That was, hands down, one of the shittiest dates I’ve ever been on. I have horrible taste in men, so that is saying something.”
“What’d he do?” Liam asked, suddenly sounding tight. “He touch you or some shit? If he did, I’ll turn this damn car around.” We were stopped at a red light and I could see him doing it. He’d nearly punched out that man the day before.
“And do what?” I asked, crossing my legs and looking out the window. When Liam didn’t answer right away, I glanced his way to see that he was looking at me, or rather looking at where my legs were crossed. I felt my skin flush. I had flashed him, I knew it. He had seen it in my less than elegant leg cross, but that’s what nearly three cups of wine in less than an hour got you. I couldn’t say that I was too mad about it.
“And do what?” I pressed when he didn’t answer. Slowly he looked up from my legs and met my eyes.
“Somethin’ stupid.”
The words excited me in a way that they shouldn’t have. I knew that. I could feel the start of it warming me through in a way that I didn’t think was the wine.
My stomach twisted, a shiver of excitement coursing through me until it was hard to breath without it sounding like a gasp. We stared at each other, one second bleeding into another until I wanted something.
Anything.
To have it acknowledged that things were changing, that I wasn’t imagining this heat between us. He had to feel it too, didn’t he? Why was he able to get under my skin like this?
“What is going on right now?” I asked, unable to stop the words from coming.
The red light changed, and he looked away from me while putting the car into drive.
“Somethin’ stupid,” he said driving on, and I frowned.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Means, we’re gonna start something, Mel.”
