I drop my gaze, waiting for her to say something other than “huh.” Seconds turn into minutes, the silence eating away at me. I’m dying to know, what does she want out of this?
The front parking lot of Cowboy’s is packed. Josh drives around the back of the building and makes his own parking space in a vacant lot beside a few other trucks. Never in my life have I been with someone who makes their own parking space. Ashley always valeted his cars, and so did my mother.
Getting out, I wobble. My heels sink into the grass with each step. Josh must see me struggling becau
se he puts a supportive arm around my waist, ushering me out of the grassy lot and to the sidewalk. Nestled close to his body, the scent of his cologne is heavenly. It’s the kind of smell that makes me want to bury my nose in his chest and not come up for air. I don’t, but kind of want to.
“Sorry.” Josh shoots me an apologetic look as we approach the front of the building. Landon, Hattie, and Sam are huddled in a group, likely waiting for our arrival. “Sam must have opened his big mouth about us coming here tonight.”
“It’s fine.” I was enjoying our alone time, but being around his friends is fun, too. They’re nothing like my friends back home. We’d get together after school to study sometimes, but we’ve never hung out. Josh’s hand slides from around my waist, down my arm, until our fingers tangle together.
“’Sup, man?” Landon, Hattie’s boyfriend, holds his hand up.
“Not much.” Josh high fives Landon, then slaps Sam across the stomach, who then punches him in the shoulder. Boys.
A big man with a black shirt that says bouncer blocks the front entrance, carding people before allowing them inside. I dig through my purse and I realize I left my fake ID…somewhere, hopefully in my apartment and not in my jewelry box in Georgia. Out of time and options, I hold out my real ID and extend my hand. The bouncer puts a big black X on it with a permanent marker.
Josh chuckles, his brown eyes twinkling with flirtation. He leans in, his breath tickling my ear, and says, “Don’t worry, beautiful. I’m not drinking tonight. I’ll get you whatever you want.”
Cowboys is nothing like the nightclubs I’ve been to in Atlanta. Those are tiered, with bars lining the wall, and the rest of it is open space. Music is funneled through speakers, each floor having it’s own theme, and even though I've only been twice and had been chaperoned by my brother, I had a great time.
This building is one large space, divided into three sections. To my left is an L-shaped bar with a dozen or so hightop chairs. On my right is a game area with four red pool tables, three dart boards, and a sign pointing towards the bathrooms. Then, straight ahead, is a stage and a dance floor that’s full of people in boots and jeans. Great. Not only am I the only one of us with the black X of doom on my hand, but I’m overdressed.
As if Josh can read my thoughts, he leans in to yell over the music, “You are the most beautiful girl here.” He kisses my cheek with a whisper of a touch before pulling away. “Go with the guys, I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Hattie takes Josh’s place beside me as soon as he steps out of reach and takes my hand. “Come dance with me!”
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “I’m liable to sprain my ankle in these shoes. You go. Have fun.”
Hattie juts her bottom lip out, faking disappointment, then turns on her heels. She skips to the dance floor and jumps into a line dance routine. I watch her for a second, trying to pick up the steps, but there’s too many kicks and turns. I was a gymnast for most of my childhood. I know how to count rhythm and can fall into a routine fairly easily, but watching Hattie out there makes my head spin.
I climb the three steps to where the pool tables are and find Sam and Landon engaged in a heated game of rock, paper, scissors by the dartboard. Landon wins, crushing Sam's scissors with his rock, so he throws first. He misses by a mile, sticking the dart into the drywall beside the board.
Josh appears a few minutes later, a large red drink with a miniature umbrella in one hand and what looks to be a Coke in his other. He hands me the red one. “You’ll like this.”
I look up at him, straw between my lips, and take a sip. He’s right, it's delicious, but my mind is miles away from my drink. It’s tumbling down the rabbit hole, wondering how he knows about whatever this drink is called, who he bought it for, and why he’s here with me?
Deep down, I know this could never work, not long term, but I can’t bring myself to walk away.
Our gazes hold a little too long for two people attracted to each other not to be doing something. My pulse drums in my ears and I wonder, Is he gonna kiss me again? Better yet, do I want him to kiss me again?
That’s a stupid question. Josh is the best kisser I’ve ever had. Granted I’ve only kissed three people, but he’s at the top of the list. I can only imagine what he’d be like in bed. My cheeks heat at that thought. I bet he’s great.
The slurping of my straw startles me. I look down at my empty cup wondering, Where’d it all go, and, Why am I thinking about sleeping with Josh?
“Josh!” Landon hollers across the pool table. He grabs two cues and holds one out for him to take.“Get in on this game.”
“Nah, man. I’m good.” Josh shakes his head and looks at my glass. He smirks then takes it from my hand. “I’m gonna grab her another drink.”
“Don’t be such a little bitch,” Landon counters. “She won’t mind. You don’t mind. Right, Layla?”
Do I want my date to leave me to play a game that takes his attention off of me? No, but these are his friends. I don’t want any resentment from them; or, worse, to have Josh feel like he has to hang out with me. “Of course not.”
“Be right back,” Josh yells over his shoulder as he walks down the steps to the bar.
I glance across the room and find Hattie, still doing her thing on the dance floor. I could watch her move for hours, laughing like she doesn’t have a care in the world, even when she messes up. I wish I could be that carefree.
I jump in my seat when someone touches my leg. Josh is back, quicker than I expected, with another red drink. I place the straw between my lips as soon as he hands it over and he smirks.