Men are the worst.
Suddenly, the music started up, a sexy swell of bass and synth. I felt warm all over, as if someone had switched on a heat lamp and aimed it directly at my body. It must’ve been the alcohol coursing through my veins. One glance at my empty mason jar confirmed my suspicion.
The bass thumped, the synth pulsed, the heat continued to rise. Maybe it was more than the alcohol. I raised my head, searching for the source of the unexpected warmth.
Then I saw him standing in the doorway, backlit, curls fluttering in the breeze, looking like a well-dressed demigod.
He was here. Alex hadn’t disappointed me.
Yet.
10
The look in his eyes made me feel more beautiful than any overpriced face mask ever could. It was sultry and hungry and a little dazed. Like perhaps he’d developed a sudden urge to whisk me off to the bedroom.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said.
“Thanks.” I tingled all over.
“I’m sorry I’m late. The subway on the weekend, you know? It’s always a disaster.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, totally relaxed, as if I hadn’t been on the verge of a meltdown thirty seconds ago. “Let me introduce you to my friends.”
Pointing to them in turn, I said, “This is Whitney, Lia, and Dani.”
He smiled and shook each of their hands. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Whit gestured to the bottle he was holding. “Is that Moët?”
“Yeah. I hope it’s okay.”
“Uh, it’s better than okay.” She chugged the remainder of her pink sangria and said, “Let’s pop that bad boy open.”
“Sure thing.”
As he untangled the gold foil and wire cage, I stole a quick glance at my friends, checking to see their initial reactions. Dani shot me a discreet thumbs-up, mouthing, “He’s cute.” Whit impatiently eyed the champagne, while Lia stared off into the distance.
The bottle popped open with a thwop and white foam bubbled up and over the neck. He filled our glasses to the rim, then grabbed an empty mason jar from the bar and poured one for himself.
“Cheers, everyone,” he said, then looked me in the eyes. “To new friends.”
“Cheers.” We echoed, clinking glasses and taking our first fizzy sips.
Alex surveyed the surroundings. “This place looks great. The lights, the food, the fire pit. Did you do all this, Mel?”
“No, I didn’t do anything. This was all my roommate, Vanessa.”
“Is she a party planner or something?”
I shook my head. “She’s a virtual assistant.”
“Well, there’s a lot of planning involved in that line of work, I guess.” He turned to the girls. “What about you all? What do you do for a living?”
Lia went first. “I’m a graphic designer at the Golden Group.”
“Wow, the Golden Group is a big deal. Good on you for scoring that gig.”
“Thanks,” she said, visibly warming to his words. “It’s kind of a dream job.”
“I bet.” Next, he turned to Dani. “And you?”
“I’m pursuing my PhD in Sociology at The New School.”
He addressed me with laughter in his voice. “I didn’t realize your friends were all geniuses.”
Dani blushed a little. “I wouldn’t call myself a genius, but I’m certainly no slouch.”
Finally, he flashed that dazzling smile over to Whit. “And what about you?”
Instead of answering his question, she flipped it back on him. “Aren’t you a Hatchling?”
“Um...” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, thrown by the sudden change in conversational direction. “Yeah. I am.”
“You’re not one of those assholes that gives Mel a hard time all day, are you?”
“Whitney!” I hissed, “Of course he isn’t.”
“Well, you’re always saying the Hatchlings are such dicks to you.”
Alex winced. This was so awkward. I wanted to crawl under the snack table with a pitcher of sangria and that entire tray of marshmallows.
“Obviously, Alex is different,” I said. “Why would I invite someone here who wasn’t nice to me?”
“Look, it’s okay,” he said, his voice steady and gentle. “I get it, Whitney. Melanie’s your friend, and you’re worried about her. Men can be manipulative jerks, I see that at work every day. I try my best not to be one of them.”
“You’re not,” I said, shooting a meaningful look at Whit.
He licked his lips and continued, “For what it’s worth, I don’t enjoy being around the other Hatchlings, either. Like I told Mel, sometimes it feels like I’m working in a frat house. And if it’s that uncomfortable for me, I can’t even imagine how uncomfortable it must be for her, one of the only women in the office.”
For once, Whitney didn’t interject with a snarky comment. My friends were rapt, all eyes trained on Alex as he reached for my hand, linked his fingers through mine, and said, “Honestly, Mel makes being at Hatch way more bearable. I used to dread going to work in the mornings but now...” He swung his gaze over to me. “Just knowing I’ll get to spend a few minutes with her is reason enough for me to get out of bed.”
Oh, he was good. Even Whitney looked impressed, which was a feat, considering she enjoyed shredding arguments like a slow-cooked pork shoulder.
“That’s beautiful,” Lia said, her voice warbly and threatening to crack. Dani and I exchanged a brief, troubled look.
“You okay?” Dani asked.
Lia nodded. “Yeah. That was just a really nice thing to say, Alex. Mel means a lot to us and I’m glad to see there’s someone else looking out for her.” With a sniffle, she added, “I could use some more champagne.”
“Of course,” he said, and quickly refilled her cup.
With my friends sufficiently charmed, the tension dissipated, and the conversation flowed. Alex asked thoughtful questions and listened attentively to their answers. He established eye contact and laughed at their jokes, replenishing drinks whenever they were needed. The whole time, he held tight to my hand. My fingers quivered.
Could he have been any more perfect?
Just as I started to float away on a cloud of pure joy, I heard it. It was faint and low quality, but I’d recognize those auto-tuned lyrics anywhere. Some asshole behind me was playing the “#DickInTheDark Remix” on his phone.