Did Josh actually have syphilis? Maybe. Maybe not. He slept around enough I wouldn’t be surprised if he did, and I wouldn’t be upholding girl code if I didn’t warn Wrap Dress about the possibility of contracting an STD.

Instead of recoiling, she laughed. “Thanks for the warning, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Making jokes about STDs. How original.” If Josh was bothered by me insulting him in front of his date, he didn’t show it. “I hope your oral arguments are more creative, or you’ll have a tough time in the legal world. Assuming you pass the bar, of course.”

His mouth curved into a smirk, revealing a tiny dimple in his left cheek.

I held back a snarl. I hated that dimple. Every time it popped up, it mocked me, and I wanted nothing more than to stab it with a knife.

“I’ll pass,” I said coolly, reining in my violent thoughts. Josh always brought out the worst in me. “Better hope you don’t get sued for medical malpractice, Joshy, or I’ll be the first to offer my services to the other party.”

I’d busted my ass to get a spot at Thayer Law and a job offer from Silver & Klein, the prestigious law firm I interned for last summer. I wasn’t about to let my dreams of becoming a lawyer slip away when I was so close.

No freaking way.

I was going to pass the bar exam, and Josh Chen was going to eat his words. Hopefully, he’d choke on them too.

“Big talk for someone who hasn’t even graduated yet.” Josh leaned against the bar and propped his forearm on the counter, looking irritatingly like a model posing for a GQ spread. He switched subjects before I could fire another retort. “You’re awfully dressed up for a solo date.”

His gaze swept from my curled hair to my made-up face before lingering on the gold pendant resting against my cleavage.

My spine turned to iron. Unlike Clark the Consultant, Josh’s scrutiny seared into my flesh, hot and mocking. The metal from my necklace flamed against my skin, and it was all I could do not to yank it off and pelt it in his smug face.

And yet, for some reason, I remained still while he continued his perusal. It wasn’t lecherous so much as it was assessing, like he was gathering all the puzzle pieces and arranging them into a complete picture in his mind.

Josh’s eyes dipped to the green cashmere dress hugging my torso, skimmed over the expanse of my black-stockinged legs, and stopped at my black heeled boots before he dragged them back up to meet my own hazel ones. His smirk disappeared, leaving his expression unreadable.

A charged silence crackled between us before he spoke again. “You’re dressed for an actual date.” His pose remained casual, but his eyes sharpened into dark knives waiting to carve out my embarrassment. “But you were about to leave, and it’s only five-thirty.”

I lifted my chin even as the heat of embarrassment prickled my skin. Josh was many things—infuriating, cocky, the spawn of Satan—but he wasn’t stupid, and he was the last person I wanted knowing I’d been stood up.

He would never let me live it down.

“Don’t tell me he didn’t show.” There was a strange note in his voice.

The heat intensified. God, I shouldn’t have worn cashmere. I was roasting in my stupid dress. “You should worry less about my love life and more about your date.”

Josh hadn’t looked at Wrap Dress since he showed up, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was too busy chatting and laughing with the bartender.

“I assure you, of all the things on my to-do list, worrying about your love life isn’t even in the top five thousand.” Despite the snark, Josh continued staring at me with that indecipherable expression.

My stomach swooped for no obvious reason.

“Good.” It was a lame retort, but my brain wasn’t working properly. I blamed it on the exhaustion. Or the alcohol. Or a million other things that had nothing to do with the man standing in front of me.

I grabbed my coat and slid off my seat, intent on brushing past him without another word.

Unfortunately, I’d misjudged the distance between the bar stool rung and the floor. My foot slipped, and a small gasp rose in my throat when my body tilted backward of its own accord. I was two seconds away from falling on my ass when a hand shot out and gripped my wrist, pulling me back up into a standing position.

Josh and I froze at the same time, our eyes locked on where his hand encircled my wrist. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d voluntarily touched. Maybe three summers ago, when he’d pushed me, fully clothed, into the pool during a party, and I’d retaliated by “accidentally” elbowing him in the groin?

The memory of him doubling over with pain still gave me great comfort in times of distress, but I wasn’t thinking about that now.

Instead, I was focused on how disturbingly close he was—close enough for me to smell his cologne, which was nice and citrusy instead of fire and brimstone-y like I’d expected.

The adrenaline from my near fall pumped through my system, pushing my heart rate into unhealthy territory.

“You can let go now.” I willed my breaths to come out steady despite the suffocating heat. “Before your touch gives me hives.”

Josh’s grip tightened for a millisecond before he dropped my arm like it was a hot potato. Annoyance wiped away his previously unreadable expression. “You’re welcome for making sure you don’t break your tailbone, JR.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Joshy. I would’ve caught myself.”

“Sure. God forbid the words thank you leave your mouth.” His sarcasm deepened. “You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“It’s better than being an ass, period.”

Everyone else looked at Josh and saw a handsome, charming doctor. I looked at him and saw a judgmental, self-righteous jerk.

You can make other friends, Ava. She’s bad news. You don’t need someone like that in your life.

My cheeks flushed. It’d been seven years since I overheard Josh talking to Ava about me, right when she and I were becoming friends, and the memory still stung. Not that I’d ever told them I’d heard them. It would just make Ava feel bad, and Josh didn’t deserve to know how much his words hurt.

He wasn’t the first person to think I wasn’t good enough, but he was the first to try and ruin one of my budding friendships because of it.

I flashed a brittle smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve exceeded my daily tolerance for your presence.” I slipped on my coat and gloves and readjusted my bag. “Give your date my condolences.”

Before he could respond, I pushed past him and quickened my steps until I hit the chilly March air. Only then did I allow myself to relax, though my pulse maintained its frantic speed.

Of all the people I could’ve run into at the bar, I had to run into Josh Chen. Could the day get any worse?

I could already imagine the taunts he’ll pepper me with the next time I saw him.

Remember when you got stood up, JR?

Remember when you sat at the bar for an hour by yourself like a loser?


Tags: Ana huang Twisted Romance