The prom night I’d stood her up for.
My hand went to the spot on my wrist where I usually wore my watch, a nervous habit I had when I was upset. But my fingers encountered only bare skin, because I’d given my watch to Mina. Right. Because she didn’t trust me, and I didn’t blame her.
The night air was cooling off, and the city scent was almost pleasant as the breeze picked up. I climbed the steps to the rundown brownstone I shared with four other roommates, all of them EMT’s like me. No way could any of us afford a place on our own, and with the shifts we all worked, we hardly saw each other anyway.
Right away I could see Eric’s old sneakers discarded inside the front door, his gym bag next to them. Grim’s boots weren’t there, which meant he was on shift. Daniela, our only female roommate, was sitting on the living room sofa, eating Pringles and watching House Hunters. There was no sign of Keith, our fifth roommate—he had a serious girlfriend, so he spent a lot of his off-hours at her place. For that reason he was by far our favorite roommate.
“Hey,” I said to Daniela, heading for the kitchen and opening the fridge. Leftovers. I’d put spaghetti leftovers in the fridge last night. Had someone eaten my damn leftovers?
“Hey yourself, douchebag,” Daniela said, her gaze still fixed on the TV. She was wearing a Knicks jersey and a pair of boxer shorts, and her dark hair was in a pixie cut. She ate another Pringle and didn’t look my way.
What the hell? Daniela was never rude. Then it hit me: Eric and Grim had probably told her about the prom thing. “It was ten years ago,” I said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Daniela cupped a hand around her ear theatrically. “What’s that you say? You’re a jerk who stands up girls for the prom? Oh, right.”
“It was ten years ago,” I repeated, rifling through the fridge. Thank God, my spaghetti leftovers were still there. You never knew with four roommates. “And besides, I went over to her place and apologized to her tonight.”
“Apologized to who?” Eric came down the stairs, fresh from his post-gym shower, and walked into the kitchen. “You mean the hottie from the elevator? And what’s in the Tupperware? It better not be my leftover pho.”
“It’s mine,” I said of the spaghetti, yanking it away from his gaze. “And yes, I apologized to her. Are you ever going to pick up your gym bag and shoes? They’re stinking up the whole front doorway, man.”
Eric waved away my complaint without even dignifying it with an answer. “I can’t believe you actually apologized to her,” he said. “She was really mad. What happened? Did she slam the door in your face?”
Daniela turned the TV down, intrigued by the idea. “Did she yell at you?” she asked, digging into the Pringles can. “Did she call you names?”
“It was…fine,” I said, stirring the spaghetti and putting it in the microwave. I didn’t want to get into detail about Mina crying, or melting into my arms, smelling like sweet shampoo and popcorn. That smell shouldn’t have been a turn-on. I’d been able to feel her breasts against me, too. I was such a jerk.
“Fine?” Eric’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s lame,” Daniela said. “I know you’re skipping something juicy. And I think you should do some kind of penance. That’s what I would want if someone stood me up for the prom.”
“Who did you go with?” Eric asked her, eyeing my spaghetti as it came out of the microwave. I put an elbow in his gut to keep him away.
“Not with the date I wanted,” Daniela said. She rolled her eyes back and fanned herself. “Alison Parks. Oh, man, she was hot. I would have walked over hot coals to go with her, but she was unfortunately hetero, so I went with Toby DiSucco instead.”
“And Toby wasn’t hetero?” I asked, happy that the topic had moved away from my fuckups.
“Not in the least,” Daniela said. “He didn’t get the date he wanted either—Garrett Shawnell, the football player—so we consoled ourselves by going together and sneaking a mickey of tequila into the punch. If you can’t get laid on prom night, you might as well get drunk and have a good time.”
My fork paused in my spaghetti. That sounded like fun. The kind of fun Mina and I would have had if I’d actually showed up that night.
“I went with Gina Cho,” Eric said, giving up on my spaghetti and getting his own leftovers out of the fridge. “The hottest girl in school, no question. Oh man, what a night we had.” He sighed. “She’s married with three kids now, because apparently we all got old.”
“Speak for yourself,” Daniela said. “I’m still hot.”
“Me too,” Eric said. “Except now I’m thirty and hot.” He flexed his arm, making his bicep pop. “No flab here.” He smacked his stomach. “No beer belly here. Not gonna happen.”
I rolled my eyes. Eric spent most of his non-work time at the gym, and he was ridiculously proud of it. All of us worked out—it was pretty much a requirement for doing the job we did. But Eric loved nothing more than to brag about it. Oh, and leave his gym bag by the door to treat us to the stench.
“So where did you leave it with Hot Girl?” Eric asked.
“How hot are we talking?” Daniela broke in.
Eric hummed like he was contemplating something delicious. “The curvy kind, you know? Lots up top, booty on the bottom. Thick, long hair. Red lipstick.”
“Damn,” Daniela said. “I love curvy ones. I wouldn’t have stood her up for prom.”
“Okay, stop,” I broke in, holding up a hand. “You can both stop drooling over Mina, okay? She’s a nice person. Nicer than I deserve.”
“Does that mean she forgave you?” Daniela asked.
“I’m on probation,” I said. “I’m taking her out to dinner on Thursday to plead my case.”
Eric’s eyebrows went up. “And then what?”
My fork paused in my spaghetti again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s say you don’t fuck this up for once and she forgives you. What then? Are you dating her?”
My mouth went dry at his words. My throat closed and my heart sped up. Dating Mina Maple. I’d put the idea out of my mind for ten years, after I fucked everything up, because it wasn’t possible. But to date Mina? To hang out with her, make her laugh, listen to her secrets and tell her mine? To kiss her? To sleep with her?
Jesus, Whittaker, get a grip. She’s only your dream girl.
“Um,” I managed.
Daniela interrupted, earning my undying gratitude. “First things first, Eric. Let’s see if Holden manages this dinner. If he even shows up.”
“He better show up, or Grim and I will kick his ass,” Eric said. He looked at me. “I guess I should just say it direct to your face. Grim and I saw how hurt she was. Show up for dinner or we’ll kick your ass.”
I nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Nothing was going to keep me from dinner with Mina. Nothing at all.
Seven
Mina