She steps back, tucking a makeup brush behind her ear. “Say that again?”
“You heard me.” I roll my eyes.
“What’d you do?”
“I kissed him back,” I say. “And then I left.”
Presley’s bony fingers grip my neck as she pretends to choke me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“One kiss does not mean he wants to commit himself to you, Calypso. Maybe he just wanted to fuck? And you swindled that opportunity like some pansy moron. God, what a waste.”
“The shop is closing in three months, and as soon as it does, I’m gone.” I sit up straight, sure of my convictions. “There’s no point in entertaining any kind of anything with Crew.”
“Then why even bother hanging out with him tonight?”
“Because we’re hanging out as friends.”
“A guy like Crew doesn’t have female friends.”
“We’re neighbors, and I help him with Emme. It’s nothing more than that, I can promise you.”
“Mm, hm.” Presley’s lips form a straight line as one brow lifts. “Keep telling yourself that, babe.”
***
I feel silly as I knock on Crew’s door at seven.
To anyone with an eye for style, I know I look fine. Presley piled my long hair on top of my head and tugged and pulled until it was perfectly messy, and then she brushed a few tendrils down to frame my face. I’m wearing some sort of small top that shows a hint of my midriff and a gauzy skirt that hits just below the knee. Tribal sandals with intricate turquoise beading down sides, also belonging to Presley, have temporarily replaced my Birkenstocks.#p#分页标题#e#
My tongue barely grazes my lips, tasting a hint of the rosebud lip gloss Presley insisted I wear as she chased me out the door of the shop earlier. My cheeks blush, but that rosy hue is surely hidden by the pale pink blush sitting on them.
Clearing my throat, I stare down at my polished toes—courtesy of Bryson, who couldn’t resist getting in on the action as he reported for his shift tonight.
Crew’s going to think I’m trying to impress him.
The door flings open before I have a chance to even consider ducking back to my apartment and washing all of this off me.
“Come in.” Crew’s eyes scan the length of me and his lips flash into a quick smile until our eyes meet.
He wears a teal button-down, cuffed at the elbows, his tattoos on full display. A pair of jeans, dark as night and free of wrinkles and holes, and a bright white pair of Chuck Taylors finish his look. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him in something other than faded jeans and lived-in t-shirts.
“I made him dress up,” Noelle says. I peek over his shoulder to see her sitting with Emme at the kitchen table. Emme’s chewing on a rubber giraffe and Noelle’s flipping mindlessly through a poker magazine. She glances up at me a moment later. “Oh, look at you. You dressed up too.”
Crew massages his temples and shoots his sister a look.
“It’s not a date,” I say.
He turns to me, an eyebrow arched. I’m desperate for him to say something. Anything to confirm or deny. I don’t think it’s a date. I mean, he didn’t explicitly say it was a date.
“Then what the hell is it?” Noelle laughs. “Just watching you two stand around like a couple of awkward teenagers going to prom is making my palms sweat. Clearly there’s something going on between you.”
Crew grabs his keys from the table, leaning down and kissing the top of Emme’s head. He whispers something to her, though I can’t make it out, and turns back to me.
“Ready?” He points to the door, and I nod, giving Emme and Noelle a small wave.
We step outside, and on the way to the parking lot, Crew walks beside me. Our arms bump and brush against each other a couple of times, and we laugh it off.
“Hope Noelle didn’t put you on the spot in there,” he says when we climb into his truck. It’s black and shines under the streetlamps. I’m willing to guess it’s freshly waxed too.
“It’s fine.” I buckle in and place my bag on the floor by my feet. A pink car seat covered in flowery fabric rests in the middle of the tiny back seat. “It’s cheap entertainment.”
“For her or for us?”
“Both?”
He smiles, backing out of the parking spot and slipping his right arm around the back of my seat. It almost feels like his arm is around me. A light mix of aftershave and clean soap fills my lungs, and I inhale again and again until I’m too used to the scent to smell it any longer.