9. I like my toes
Nine
I LIKE MY TOES
Liv
We drink espresso martinis instead of dessert and ask the waiter where our next stop should be.
“There’s a place just down the road that’s really popular.
It’s called The Tavern. They also have a band most weekends.
It’s a local spot, though, so if you’re not into that sort of thing, there's a restaurant in the opposite direction, The Bicycle Spoke. It has excellent drinks, and it’s more touristy.
” He looks between us. “Can I get you ladies anything else?”
I shake my head and he smiles, handing us the bill.
“I vote for the locals’ place. I bet it’s way more fun.” Viv finishes her martini and raises her eyebrows at me.
“Sounds good to me!”
We close our check and walk toward The Tavern.
The sky is clear, and the moon is hanging low in the sky.
A breeze rustles the leaves in the trees along the sidewalk, and I tug on my jean jacket.
There’s less humidity here, and with the heat of the day dissipating, it’s surprisingly cool, even for June.
A text pings my phone, tugging my attention to the screen.
Jerry PI: I need an address to send you what I’ve got.
I type out a response. Viv eyeballs my screen with no regard for privacy. “Let me know what he finds.”
We wander down the sidewalk, passing the dark windows of storefronts closed for the night.
Every chance my traitorous mind gets, it finds its way back to Luke.
I never thought I’d see him again, and by some twist of fate, here he is.
Nearly seven hours away from where I first saw him.
What was he doing in Manhattan if he’s from up here?
Was it a one-time visit, or is he in the city often?
Does he ever drive the boat with his shirt off?
“And then I said, just lick it right off my nipple,” Viv says.
“I’m sorry, what?” I snap back to the present and turn toward her.
“Oh, hi! Welcome back to Earth,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Where’d you go? Wait, wait, no, let me guess. You were daydreaming about what it would feel like to have Luke’s sexy beard tickle your—”
“Good lord, I was not!” But now that she’s mentioned it… “I was just wondering why he was in the city. But now, thanks to you, I am wondering how that beard would feel between my legs. So thanks a lot.”
“No problem!”
We open the door to The Tavern and voices, laughter, and music spill out onto the street.
All the booths along the perimeter of the restaurant are full.
To the left is a bar that stretches the entire length of the space with hardly a stool available.
We must have entered at the point in the night where you seat yourselves because the hostess station is abandoned.
A couple bartenders tend a packed crowd at the bar, and a band plays on the stage in the back.
Sublime’s “What I Got” is the song of choice, bringing me back to our high school days; Viv and me driving with the music blasting and the windows down.
People fill every corner, but by some stroke of luck we find an empty two-top in the middle of the room.
We order a couple of drinks—beer for Viv, wine for me—and settle in.
A few people in the crowd sing along with the chorus of the song, Viv and I included.
We’re off-key and we know it, but what’s a little bad singing between friends?
When the band switches over to a new song, erupting cheers sound out around the bar. I watch the people around me and smile. Everyone stops to talk to everyone else: people smile and nod at one another. It’s like one of those cute small towns in the rom-com novels I devour in my free time.
The waitress, who looks to be in her mid-fifties and navigates the crowd like she’s done this her whole life, comes back to see if we want another round.
“That round’s on me, Joanie!” A voice carries out across the crowd of noise.
Viv and I turn our attention to where Joanie, our waitress, is now looking.
“You got it!” she calls back, then looks at us. “I’ll be right back.”
Viv’s smile widens as the source of the voice comes into view.
“I must be in heaven because two angels sit here before me,” Josh announces, approaching our table. Luke strides into view, coming up beside him.
My stomach twists at the sight of him. Tonight he’s in a gray Henley tucked slightly into the front of his jeans. A worn brown belt sits in the loops at his trim waist, holding up a pair of dark-wash denim.
“I wasn’t sure if my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw your gorgeous faces from the other side of the room.
I said, ‘Luke, we better get over there and buy those ladies some drinks before another guy tries to.’” Josh is so animated when he speaks.
He elbows Luke in the side, earning a shove in return.
Viv laughs, clearly charmed. I smile too, but my focus is elsewhere.
“What are we drinking, darling?” He throws his arm over Viv’s shoulder like they’ve been friends forever. It would typically be strange for a man you just met to put his arm around you like you’ve been friends your whole life, something about him makes it feel completely normal.
Luke moves to stand beside me. The smell of his cologne—butterscotch and oak—washes over me, and I can’t help it. I lean closer. Tilting his head down closer to mine, he whispers in my ear.
“You’re looking better.” His breath flutters against my neck, sending goosebumps down my arms.
“Excuse me?” I jerk away to get a better look at his face.
His eyes, playful, scan mine and then briefly drop to my lips before returning to meet my glare. “Well, when I saw you earlier, you looked like you’d seen a ghost or something.”
“Maybe I was too busy figuring out where to hide my oyster crackers once I realized it was you,” I snap back, grateful I’m able to form coherent sentences this time around.
He barks out a surprised laugh. “Touché, Trip. Touché.”
“I have an actual name, you know.” I roll my eyes up at him.
“But this is so much more fun.” His eyes crinkle when he smiles. It’s warm, and genuine, and just like that, my insides turn to mush.
“You’re insufferable.”
“What was that? Irresistible? That’s really nice of you to say, Trip.” He places his hand on my wrist, sending a zip of energy through me, then he pulls it away again. “Thank you.”
Shit, he’s charming, too. Don’t smile.
My face betrays me, and my lips stretch into a smile that I’m hardly able to mask with a casual look around the bar.
“Hey bicker babies, you done?” Viv yells at us from across the table.
“It’s adorable, though, isn’t it? All that hot sexual tension?” Josh looks down at Viv, arm still draped over her shoulder.
“Truly.” She looks up at him. Two peas in a pod.
The first few notes of a new song play out, inciting a gasp from Viv. “OH! I love this song! Liv, let’s go dance!”
“Ehh—”
“If you want me to sweep you off your feet, darling, all you need to do is ask.” Josh reaches for her hand. Viv takes one more sip from her beer, throws a wink in my direction, and takes off toward the stage with Josh.
Luke watches them go, takes another swig and sets his beer on the table, looking down at me. “Did you want to—”
“Nope, I’m good. Stepping on toes was not on my agenda tonight.” I’m alone with him. Now what? I lift my glass to my mouth and let the liquid courage slide down. Calm, collected on the outside. Absolutely panicking on the inside.
“Okay, good, because I’m a terrible dancer. And besides, I like my toes.” Luke takes Viv’s seat and looks toward her and Josh. I follow his gaze to the dance floor, too. Josh sends her out twirling in one direction and then pulls her back to him again. Viv’s laugh rings out across the crowd.
My attention returns to the table, and I lock eyes with Luke. “Well, that’s absurd.”
“What?” he asks.
“No one likes their toes. It’s a fact.”
He scrunches his face at me and purses his lips. It’s adorable, and I fight the smile that wants to pull at my lips. Instead, I lift my eyebrows in challenge.
“Not true,” he says, lifting his chin and squinting his eyes.
“Ask anyone. I’d be shocked if you found anyone here who truly likes their toes.” I sweep my hand around the room, believing he won’t actually do it.
Silly me. He smiles a real, face-splitting smile that makes my toes curl.
“Fine, I will ask,” he says.
Well shit.
“You’re just going to walk around asking people about their toes? That can’t be socially acceptable.”
“Hey, Reg!” Ignoring my comment, he cups his hand around his mouth and calls to a man who’s about ten feet away at another table. This Reg guy looks over, and Luke gestures for him to come to the table.
I perch my forehead between my thumb and pointer as Reg moves between people toward us.
Reg looks to be in his sixties or so, with salt-colored hair and enormous glasses. “What do you want, Huff?” His surly voice sounds impatient.
“This pretty lady here, Liv”—Luke gestures to me—“is curious if you like your toes?”
I drop my hand at the mention of my name. Is he serious right now?
“My toes? Why the hell do you wanna know about my toes?” He looks between us, and I want to crawl into my jean jacket and hide. Luke is undeterred.
“Do you like your toes, Reg? Yes or no.”
“Huff, are you drunk?” Reg leans closer to get a better look, lifting his glasses off his face.
“Just answer the question, old man.”
Reg grumbles something about leaving his beer at the table for this nonsense and then sighs heavily. “No, I don’t like my toes. I got a big ass bunion, and it hurts like hell. Wanna see it?” Lifting his foot off the ground, he points to his shoe.
“Liv, did you want to see Reg’s bunion?” Luke’s smile is smug as both men turn their attention to me. My cheeks instantly flame red, which I hope they can’t see in the dim lighting as I furiously shake my head no. Reg grumbles again, this time about strange kids, and walks off.
“Alright, Trip, that’s one point for you.”