Chapter 6
six
“Thank you,” I said. “For hanging out or whatever.”
Josh offered a swift nod of his head as we came upon my apartment door. Our apartment. “Hey, I take great honor in being your first date, Brielle.”
I paused. “Practice date.”
“Basically the most important.”
“Sure,” I offered a laugh and a shrug. “Sorry it took up your whole evening.”
“I had a great time. What are you talking about?”
Right, I was sure he had.
“I mean, I’m glad I could help.” Josh let out a low whistle. “Gina’s trying to get you cuffed before Christmas. Ruthless.”
“When you put it that way …”
“It was also good to talk with you again, Brielle.”
I opened my mouth and paused. Tried again.
“Well, I guess I’ll”—I pointed toward my room—“get out of your room now.”
He shrugged, leaning back on the couch. “You could watch TV if you want. I feel bad that I pushed you guys out of your new space. I’ve been meaning to tell you that this space is as much yours as it is mine, but with you avoiding me and all, I kind of left it up to you.”
Again, I didn’t correct him that I hadn’t been. But now, as I stood there, looking at him—
“Unless you are still avoiding me.”
So, that was the game we were playing.
He had laid down the challenge, casual and cool from his corner of the couch, like he hadn’t just dared me to cross some invisible line neither of us had talked about yet.
I glanced toward my bedroom door. I could have retreated, shut it behind me, and spared myself the confusion that came with this new version of Josh—so familiar and yet so different.
Instead, I let out a quiet huff and peeled off my jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door. One layer down. One excuse less.
Slowly, I padded across the room. He’d done a decent job today, cleaning up the chaos that usually made the couch look like a lumpy bed. But as I sat down, sinking into the cushion beside him, that was all I could see.
I was sitting on his bed.
With him.
“Feel good to be sitting in your own living room again?” he asked, voice low and teasing.
“Never really had one before,” I admitted.
“What? Not even in college?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I mostly relied on dorms and what my financial aid would cover. A lot of shared common rooms and ancient furniture that smelled like leftover ramen and broken dreams. Not exactly HGTV material.”
Josh winced, his smile twisting. “Now I feel even worse for taking up this space. I’ll be out of your hair soon though.”
“I’m sure,” I said lightly, even though I wasn’t.
“Don’t worry; I’m not leaving the city,” he said, misreading the pause. “Just looking for another place.”
I opened my mouth to ask where, but he beat me to it.
“Maybe I’ll have you come check out the next one. Y’know, since you’re the authority on non-homey spaces.”
I blinked, caught off guard. The words weren’t cruel, but they hit something soft in me anyway.
He noticed immediately. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly. And maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. “If you need someone to apartment-hunt with, you …” I trailed off, pulling my legs up onto the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees until I was a small ball of uncertainty. “I wouldn’t mind being that person.”
Josh turned slightly, eyes meeting mine. A beat passed—quiet, but heavy with something unspoken.
Then, softly, “Sure.”
“Thanks.”
Shifting on the couch my feet brushed up against his leg. He jumped at the touch.
“Sorry.”
“Holy shit. Are those your toes?”
“Sorry,” I said, trying to adjust again so that they were tucked better under me. “I know they’re cold.”
“They are like ice cubes. Do you have socks on?”
“I run cold.”
He lifted the blanket that he had yanked down from behind his head. Before I could argue, he was already unraveling it, laying it across his lap as well as my own. “Get under here.”
Slowly, I did.
“Thanks.”
He didn’t mention it, lifting the remote to the screen and letting it flare to life. “I do have a show I’ve been meaning to watch if you want—”
The door to the apartment creaked open.
“I’m sorry I forced you to sit through your practice date with my brother. I know, worst-friend status!” Gina called out as she entered, shrugging off her coat like the wind had offended her personally.
She glanced between the two of us. “You okay?”
“Just—”
“Recapping our evening,” Josh jumped in smoothly. “So, your dear friend, who you so generously subjected to my company tonight, can go into her blind dates with confidence.”
Gina narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t look convinced.
I stood from the couch. The edge of the blanket I’d tucked around my feet—and the quiet touch of Josh’s hand—slipped away.
Did I imagine the way his fingers had lingered for just a second longer, like they didn’t want to let go?
“I’m about to head to bed,” I said, ignoring the way my chest suddenly ached with the loss of that small warmth. I didn’t look back as I stepped toward my room.
Gina followed. “So? How’d it go? How was the restaurant I’d picked out?”
“We ended up going to the bar for wings.”
“Ugh. Do you have no class, Josh? Seriously?” she called out the door.
Josh didn’t respond.
She turned back to me, expecting backup.
“The wings were good,” I admitted. “Sweet chili.”
“You’re too nice,” she scoffed. Then she softened. “But I’m glad you guys didn’t kill each other. I mean, it’s good that you two are finally on better terms. Especially since we’re all living together now—and spending Christmas at home.”
“I still don’t know if I’m coming home, Gina. I’ve got a lot to do here.”
“Lies,” she declared. “I’m not leaving you here alone. I let you make excuses for years, but unless one of your blind dates ends in a spontaneous elopement to Fiji, you’re coming. I already told my mom you were.”
I stared at her. “How was work?”
Her face lit up instantly, eyes bright and excited. “You won’t believe the installation we’re getting last minute this month. You should take one of your dates there.”
First, I thought, I have to actually go on one of them.
Though the idea didn’t hit quite the same anymore. My heart was still gently pounding from earlier, like it hadn’t caught up with the rest of me. I told myself it was just the adrenaline from going out, talking, socializing again.
But I knew what it was.
Josh.
I shook it off. “Guess we’ll see. You’ll have to send me the info.”
“You’ll hear about it,” she promised, practically bouncing. “I’m just so excited for you. This is your moment. But I still think you should start a new blog series or something. Like, document everything—job-hunting, dates, all of it. It’s content gold.”
I groaned. “You want me to write about my dating woes?”
“Who says they’ll be woes? Could be ups and downs. It’s relatable! You liked Josh and his pub wings, didn’t you? It only gets better from there, right?”
She wasn’t totally wrong. I had liked tonight. More than I should’ve.
“Everyone likes a dating adventure,” she went on. “It’s basically what Sex and the City was built on. You’re a real writer. Own it.”
“I see where you’re going with this.”
“Maybe a magazine picks it up. Or it rounds out your portfolio, like you’ve been talking about.”
“I just don’t know if I want to put my whole life out there.”
“Think of them as stories,” she said, already scheming. “Or a newsletter. Newsletters are hot these days.”
“I don’t write stories anymore.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t. Or won’t again. I remember when you used to write all the time.”
“Josh said that too,” I murmured.
Her eyebrows shot up. “See? Even he remembers. That should mean something.”
“I’ll think about it.”
She pursed her lips, like she knew she’d won at least part of the argument. “This is going to be the best month we’ve ever had in the city. I can feel it. Isn’t there a saying or something?”
“Like what?”
“Holidays in the city. It’s where dreams come true.”
“I think that’s Disney, Gina.”
She just grinned the same mischievous grin she and her brother shared. “Whatever. Don’t back down now. It’s going to be great.”