Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Joey
I haven’t seen my new neighbor again since that awkward introduction on Monday, but I haven’t stopped thinking about him and the way I shook his hand through the cracked door like some kind of freak. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved that we haven’t run into each other since then. He seemed nice and was definitely nice to look at, but there’s no telling what I’ll do to embarrass myself the next time we meet.
Shaking my head, I finish dressing in the one-piece, footed pajamas my sister’s best friend insisted we all wear tonight. It’s Friday, and even though my big sis, Callie, is in a relationship with her coworker, Royal, now, she still insists on having our girls’ night just like before. I’m honestly relieved, because these hangouts with Callie, her best friend, Raven, and my best friend, Twila, are pretty much the extent of my social life. If Callie stopped planning these things, I’d be even more of a hermit than I am now.
I look at myself in the mirror and frown. I look ridiculous. Raven ordered these matching pajamas for the four of us, insisting the theme would be fun. It’s easy for her to say. She lives two doors down from Callie, and there’s very little chance anyone will see her besides us. Twila and I have to drive across town in these getups. But Raven usually gets what she wants, so here I am, ready to venture out in public wearing a pink onesie with glittery unicorns all over it.
I braid my hair into two long plaits on either side of my head, tying them off with pink ribbons. If I’m doing this, I might as well go all-in. When I finish, I slide my feet into a pair of athletic sandals, grab my phone and keys, and head for the door.
Pulling it open and stepping out into the hall, I freeze when the door in front of me opens and Dallas steps out. He goes still when he spots me, his lips curving into a wide smile that shows off his straight, white teeth while his eyes travel down the length of me and back up again.
“Josette,” he says by way of a greeting, humor making his voice crack.
I don’t correct him, telling him to call me “Joey” like everyone else does. I love the way my full name sounds from his lips. Ignoring the heat in my face at his obvious delight at my attire, I nod at him.
“Dallas. ”
He cocks his head to one side, his grin still firmly in place. “Where are you off to tonight? A sleepover or a costume party?”
His humor is infectious, and as cliché as it sounds, I know he’s laughing with me, not at me. I know I look ridiculous.
“Girls’ night,” I say, feeling more relaxed with him than I’d thought possible. “My friend insisted we wear these, and when it comes to Raven, resistance is futile.”
He laughs, the timbre deep and rich. A shiver runs through me at the sound, and I clear my throat. Dallas nods and turns to lock his door, and I realize my own door is still standing wide open. Turning, I pull it closed and lock it. When I turn back, Dallas’ body is angled toward the elevators, but he’s not moving, obviously waiting for me to fall in beside him. I start to walk, and he matches my shorter stride, his long legs taking the tiniest of steps so he won’t outpace me.
I should say something. Anything.
“So…” I start, my mind going blank for a beat before I cough and add, “where are you off to?”
“Meeting my new boss for dinner and drinks,” he says, “at someplace called O’Malley’s.”
“Oh,” I say as we reach the elevator and Dallas presses the button to call it to our floor, “that’s a great bar. They have really good food.”
“You know it?” he asks, and I nod.
“I know almost every place in Grenville. I grew up here.”
“Good to know,” he says as the doors slide open and we step into the elevator. Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he plucks out a business card and holds it toward me. “I don’t know if you still have my number from our chat on Monday, so here’s my card. Call or text me sometime. I could use a friend, especially someone who knows all the best spots in Grenville.”
He smiles down at me, and something flutters in my chest. I take the card with stiff fingers as I try to force my hand not to shake. The tension only makes the shaking more obvious, so I push the card into the pocket of my pajamas and leave my hand there, out of sight.
The elevator stops on the ground floor, and Dallas motions for me to precede him. I step off and head straight for the exit, but he quickens his pace and beats me there, pulling the door open for me. I thank him with a nod and head toward my car without another word.
I’m being kind of a freak. I realize this about myself in the moment, but I can’t stop it. My anxiety spikes as Dallas’ footsteps echo behind me. Is he following me to my car? Why is he following me to my car?
When I reach it, the vehicle beside me beeps and the headlights flash as Dallas unlocks it.
Oh .
He wasn’t following me. He was just walking to his own car.
I look over to find him looking back, and he smiles and waves before disappearing into his vehicle. I wave back too late, and, feeling even stupider than I did before, slump into my own driver’s seat with a sigh. I pretend to fiddle with the radio until Dallas backs out of his spot and leaves, then I lean back and take a few deep breaths.
Why am I so awkward?
Groaning, I start the car and back out. Dallas’ card burns in my pocket the whole drive over, and by the time I pull into Callie’s apartment complex, I’ve decided he was only being friendly and doesn’t actually want me to text or call him. I mean, why would he? He’s so outgoing and friendly, he’s bound to make new friends in no time. He doesn’t really need me. I’m just the weirdo introvert across the hall.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Raven asks as soon as I walk into Callie’s apartment.
A quick look around proves I’m the last to arrive, and Callie and Twila look over at me with twin expressions of concern at Raven’s question. I stick my tongue out at her as I plop down beside Twila on the couch and steal her cocktail. I take a quick sip and clear my throat.
“I have a new neighbor.”
I haven’t told any of them about Dallas yet, waiting for tonight so I could do it in person. Our group chats tend to be chaotic, and I didn’t want to be even more confused about this whole situation. I need advice. Good, clear advice.
“The empty apartment across the hall?” Callie asks, and I nod.
“His name is Dallas,” I say, and all three of them sit up a bit straighter.
“Is he cute?” Twila asks, and Raven rolls her eyes .
“Is he a puppy?” she counters, then meets my eyes. “Scale of one to ten. How hot is he?”
“Twelve,” I breathe, and her eyes widen.
Before they can bombard me with questions, I raise a palm and take another long chug of Twila’s drink before handing the glass back to her. The three of them watch me expectantly as I order my thoughts, and when I’m ready, I slowly tell them the story of his address change request, my decision to tell him I live across the hall, and his subsequent visit.
I almost laugh at their wide-eyed, open-mouthed expressions. I acted totally out of character, telling a customer we’re neighbors. It’s something Raven would do, and maybe even the others, but never me.
“What does he look like?” Raven asks once she recovers.
“Tall,” I say, and when the three of them give me matching raised eyebrows, I laugh. “I know most men seem tall to me, but he really is tall. Well over six feet. And built like a pro athlete.”
“And his face?” Raven asks, Callie and Twila nodding like they want the answer to that question, too.
“Gorgeous,” I say, then sigh. “And he was really nice. He said he just wanted to introduce himself, and smiled even though I was being my usual weird self. That was Monday, and I didn’t see him again…until I left to come here.”
Twila’s eyes follow my hand as it waves over the full-length, footed pajamas I’m wearing, and when she pinches her lips together, her laughter escapes as a snort. At the sound, the other two lose control and start laughing, so hard, I can’t fight my own smile.
“Oh, my God,” Callie huffs when she gains control of her humor. “Classic.”
“What did he say?” Twila asks.
“He asked if I was going to a sleepover or a costume party,” I say, smiling softly. “I told him Raven insisted we dress like this, and he laughed. He said he was meeting his new boss at O’Malley’s tonight, and when I told him O’Malley’s is good, he gave me his card and told me to text or call him sometime. That he could use a friend who knows all the good spots in town.”
“A friend, huh?” Callie asks, her expression thoughtful. Then she cocks her head. “Royal is actually at O’Malley’s with Linc right now.”
“You should text him,” Raven says.
“Who? Royal?” I ask, confused.
“No, silly. Dallas. You should text him right now. I’m not buying the whole “friend” thing. He likes you.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” I say.
“It doesn’t hurt to text him just so he has your number,” Twila says.
“Yeah, and look how the whole texting thing worked out for Callie,” Raven adds.
“This is not the same thing,” I grumble.
My sister and Royal both teach fourth grade at the same elementary school, and they bumped heads for years. Unbeknownst to both of them, Callie got Royal’s dead fiancée’s phone number when she had to change hers a year or so ago. Royal had this tradition of texting Hope––that was her name, Hope––around the anniversary of her death, and he and Callie ended up in an anonymous texting-friendship while in-person Callie and Royal figured out their shit and fell in love. This…whatever it is with Dallas is different.
We are not the same.
“Fine,” Raven says. “But at least program his number into your phone. That way, if you accidentally lose his card, you’ll still have the opportunity to reach out if you ever work up the nerve.”
“That’s a good idea,” Callie says, offering me a small smile. “Better safe than sorry.”
When I glance at Twila, she nods at me with encouragement. I roll my eyes and blow out a long breath.
“Fine.”
Pulling the card from the pocket of my pajamas, I open my contacts on my phone and add Dallas’ info. When I finish, I turn the device around and flash the screen toward the others.
“There. Happy?”
“Extremely,” Callie says, a grin stretching across her face.
Twila claps before getting up to go make a fresh round of drinks, and Raven frowns. When I furrow my brows at her, she sighs.
“I’d be happier if you’d text him and ask him out,” she pouts, and my heart knocks in my chest at the mere idea of doing something so…brazen. Raven rolls her eyes, saying, “Oh, come on, Joey. It’s not the ni neteen-fifties, you know. Women can ask men out without being considered a harlot.”
“Who’s a harlot?” Twila asks with a chuckle as she re-enters the room and hands me a cocktail glass.
“Raven,” I grouch.
“Joey,” Raven says at the exact same moment.
Callie and Twila both laugh, and I feel myself relaxing. I’m so glad to have this group in my life. I mean, Callie’s always been my sister, obviously, but as we grew up and became adults, we grew closer as friends. Twila is grandfathered in since we met in first grade and became attached at the hip. And Raven? Well, she’s technically Callie’s bestie, but I’m sure she’d shank a bitch for me if the situation called for such violence.
As introverted as I am, it’s really hard to make friends like them. Especially as an adult.
But what about Dallas? He seems like he might want to be friends. Or, at the very least, friendly neighbors. Will I really be able to put myself out there and text him? To foster the possible friendship?
I don’t know. Maybe.