Chapter 37
“To Hannah!” shouted Garth above the music as he raised his beer.
“Hannah!” echoed the rest of my friends, drinking to me.
“Okay, enough,” I said, cheeks flaming. “Let’s dance.”
But as we all made our way to the dance floor, I wondered if our celebration might be premature. I tugged on Garth’s sleeve.
“What if we’ve won the battle but not the war?” I asked him. “If the application for historic status isn’t approved—”
“Relax,” said Garth, leaning closer so he wouldn’t have to yell.
“I overheard at least a dozen people talking about how they were going to submit applications for their own properties. If the Sunny Side doesn’t make the register, some other place will.
In any event, City Council will have to postpone any ruling on the stadium until all the submissions are reviewed.
And that could take years. Which means years of bad press for the developers.
I’m guessing they’ll walk away and find another location where the residents aren’t quite so savvy.
” He winked. “Take the win, Hannah,” he said as he danced over to Drew. “I’m pretty sure the war is over.”
It was still early—for the hardcore club-going crowd, anyway—so we had the dance floor practically to ourselves.
DJ Jimmy Flash was spinning a mix of house music, and I could feel the pounding beat in my chest. We all danced together in a circle, and soon, the Jersey natives were trying to teach Xander (and Wills and Garth) how to do an authentic fist pump.
“No, no, no,” said Drew. “You need to start down low,” he said, crouching down and punching the air in front of him. “Then you go up high,” he said. He gradually straightened up, continuing to punch to the beat while he stood until, eventually, he was pumping his fist high overhead.
“And this is dancing?” asked Xander. “Not boxing?”
“Same difference,” said Drew, “At the Jersey Shore, you never know when you might need your fight skills at the dance club.”
We all laughed and danced and danced some more.
After a while, I tapped Xander on the shoulder. He bent his head, and I put my mouth next to his ear. “I think I need to take a break.”
Looking at me, he gestured toward the bar. I nodded and took his hand, and he led me off the floor. We grabbed a couple of stools and asked the bartender for some water.
Resting my hand casually on Xander’s thigh, I leaned in close to his ear again. “We should probably get going soon,” I said. “You still need to hit the hot tub before your legs give out, and—”
“Hannah!”
Hearing my name, I looked in the direction of the voice, thinking it was one of my friends.
It wasn’t.
Joey D stood before us. Instead of his mail carrier uniform, he was dressed in a black muscle tank and ripped jeans with a large gold cross around his neck. And he did not look happy.
“You’re with this guy?” he shouted.
I was sitting close to Xander, my hand still on his thigh. From our body language, it would be obvious to anyone—even Joey—that we were a couple. And it wasn’t exactly a secret. Our relationship wasn’t the thing we were trying to hide.
“Yes,” I said. “Xander and I are together.”
“So, you’re two-timing Joey D?” he demanded.
For a moment, I just looked at him. With the music so loud, I was sure I must have misheard him.
“What?” I asked, putting my hand to my ear.
“How could you cheat on me like this?” he shouted angrily.
I reeled back. Apparently, I hadn’t misheard him.
“I thought we really had something,” he went on.
“Why would you think that?” I asked.
“We see each other practically every day.”
I nodded. “When you deliver the mail.”
“You know,” he said, puffing up his chest, “there are a lot of other women who want to be with Joey D.”
“I’m sure there—”
“But I told my mother about you,” he screamed.
“You…what?”
“So, what am I supposed to tell her now?” he ranted on. “She’s not young anymore, you know. The disappointment could kill her.”
Holy crap. He was serious.
“Joey…” I started, searching my brain for something to say.
“Ah, whatever,” he said, cutting me off. “You made your choice. But you’ll be sorry, Hannah. Mark my words. You’ll be sorry.”
His hands clenched at his side, and I began to panic that Drew’s joke had been prophetic. Would we need our fight skills at the dance club now?
Just then, Xander got to his feet and stepped between Joey and me. “Come on, Joey,” he said gently—or as gently as he could while still being heard above the house music. “You don’t mean that. The Joey D I’ve gotten to know would never threaten anyone. Especially not someone as kind as Hannah.”
Joey frowned, thinking about this. His fists began to uncurl.
“You’re not petty and vindictive,” continued Xander. “You’re bigger than that. You deliver the daily mail with a daily dose of hotness. You’re Joey D.”
Joey’s posture sagged, and the fight drained out of him. Then, he just looked sad and deflated.
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh. “I am hot.” He looked past Xander to me. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I…I think Joey D just needs to drown his sorrows.”
He started to drag up a bar stool next to me. Then, in a rare moment of self-awareness, he stopped and thought better of it. “But maybe at a different bar.”
* * *
After Joey left, Xander and I agreed to stay—mostly because my friends insisted on a play-by-play of the drama they’d missed.
“Aw, don’t be too upset with him, Hannah,” said Angie after I’d finished the recap. “He’s just a sweet, misguided kid with a fake tan and a dream.”
“Maybe I could fix him up with my sister,” offered Paulette.
“I just hope it’s not awkward tomorrow when he delivers the mail,” I said. “Or at least no more awkward than it usually is.”
Drew insisted on buying everyone another round, and Xander and I ended up sticking around way longer than we’d intended. But when I noticed the place starting to fill up with the dedicated, late-night club kids, I took it as our cue to leave.
As we walked through the parking lot, I heard my iPhone explode with alerts.
I pulled out the phone and looked at the screen. There must not have been any cell reception inside the club. I had half a dozen missed calls, all from the same number.
“It looks like Joey D has been drunk dialing me,” I said.
“Perhaps he had a chance to think things over, and he wants to apologize again,” suggested Xander.
I shrugged. We’d arrived at my Kia, so I unlocked the car, and we climbed in.
Halfway home, I got another call.
“It’s Joey,” I said, frowning at the screen on my dashboard. “I should probably answer. Otherwise, he’ll just keep calling.”
Xander nodded his agreement, and I tapped the icon to accept.
“Hey, Joey,” I said, putting him on speaker.
“Hannah,” he said over my Bluetooth connection. His voice sounded a little slurred. “I think I did a bad thing.”
“It’s okay,” I said, braking for a red light. “Don’t worry. It was just a misunderstanding.”
“It was!” he said. “I swear, I never would have poured my heart out to those dudes if I knew they were looking for Xander.”
My whole body went cold. Thank God I was already stopped, or I might have swerved right off the road. I shot Xander an apprehensive look.
“Wh-what dudes?” I asked Joey.
“The three dudes who kept buying me shots of Fireball,” he said. “At first, I thought they wanted to help me numb my pain. But you know what? I think they were pumping me for information.”
Xander and I exchanged another fraught look, and I felt like my whole world was collapsing around me.
“And, uh…how much information did they get?” I asked.
I heard a moan over the speaker. “Joey D had a lot of Fireball,” said Joey.