Page 1 of Half-Hearted
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Alexis
It cameto me after the eighth shot of tequila, as most brilliant ideas do.
“Oh, stop here, please, I’mmonna get off right’ere.”
“The car’s already stopped. This is the address you gave me.”
“No ’cause is still moving?”
The cab driver sighed, then grumbled something about “needing to stop working Friday nights” before pointing a fed-up finger at the numbered meter andslooowlyreading it out loud to me—twice—like I was some sort of dummy.
But I didn’t care. None of it mattered. Because tonight wasthe night, and nothing was going to ruin it for me. Not a grumpy cab driver, not me dropping my phone when I got out of the car, not even the fact that the stupid, slippery ground was sliding under my feet, making it impossible to hold on to my balance.
I fumbled out of my heels and left ’em on the sidewalk. And that didn’t matter either because they’d be right there for me tomorrow. I was sure of it.
Because tonight was the night. And everything was going to goperfectly. I didn’t care what any of them had said.
No more excuses. No more waiting. No more—
“Miss, you still haven’t paid.”
Hmmm?“Wassat?”
“Payment,” he repeated out the passenger window, stubby finger still pointed at the meter. “Money. Cash.”
Oh. Whoopsie.“So sorry.”
I gave him a generous tip before marching up to the building with my feet bare, my chin raised, and my chest puffed.
The building door was already open; I didn’t even have to call to be let up! That never happened… which could only mean one thing: it wasfor sure, without a doubt,a sign from the wise, all-knowing universe.“You’re on the right path!”the stars were screaming down at me via the unlocked door. I just knew it.
I floated right up to the third floor (or, like, the elevator did, I guess), my usual bout of Joel-nerves drowned in eight shots of golden liquid courage, salted lime, and pure, unfiltered excitement.
This was real. It was happening.
I all but leapt and pranced down the hall, right up to apartment number 33, and knocked, lifting to the tips of my toes with jittery anticipation.
Nothing.
I tried again, trying to reverse-peek into the peephole.
Still nothing.
I waited and waited and waited, then tried a thir—
The door swung open, and there. He. Was.
Joel.
My whole body lit up, my heart flipping inside out at the sight of him in his snug gray tee and sweats.
My beautiful Joooooel.
“Lex?” he mumbled, six and a quarter feet of broad, towering muscle and sleepy, confusedadorableness.
He rubbed his eye, dark brows crumpled. I wanted to bring his beautifully angular face to my chest and drown him in cuddles and kisses.
