Page 59 of The Muse
“Piccolo? Flute? Oboe? Trombone? Bassoon? Clarinet?”
“June, it doesn’t matter.” He laughs. “I wasn’t that good.”
I deflate. “Fine.”
“But”—he cradles my cheek in his hand, and I think it’s the best feeling in the world—“you can talk to me about the cello as much as you want to.”
“You like listening to me talk about the cello?” I don’t believe him because I’m pretty sure the only people who like talking about the cello are those who play it.
“I likeyou.” He kisses me. “I think that means I’m interested in anything you say or do. Here.” He hands me the car key.
“You keep it. I can’t even drive it yet. Besides, how are you getting home?”
He holds up his hand, refusing to take it back. “Nope. I bought it for you. And I’ll get a ride, take the bus. Whatever.”
A long string of words line up on my tongue, all the reasons he should not have bought me a car. But they feel disrespectful and ungrateful. So I smile. “Thank you for the car. For your generosity.”
My gratitude seems to add an extra inch to his height, an infusion of confidence. It looks good on him. So sexy.
“Are you working tomorrow?” he asks.
“No. It’s my day off.”
“Great.” Flynn gives me another kiss, but it’s quick, too quick. “I’m going to fix your sink then head home.” He nods for me to open my door.
“You know,” I say, “we’re adults. I have my own room. You could stay the whole night, and no one would get in trouble.” I try to sound fun and flirty, not desperate like:Have sex with me!
“I know.” Again he nods toward the door.
I deflate and open it.
“Hey,” Ally says.
“Hi,” Flynn replies. “I’m just going to quickly caulk the sink.” He heads straight into the kitchen.
Ally gives me a big grin. “That’s really nice of you, Flynn.”
“No problem,” he says.
I give her a tight grin, eyes wide.
“What?” She mouths.
I slowly shake my head, and she squints.
It only takes Flynn a few seconds to caulk around the drain. “You should be good,” he says. “See you tomorrow.” He kisses my cheek, and I nod, lips still pulled into a tight grin.
“Byeee,” Ally says.
When the door clicks behind him, I groan like a wounded animal.
“Hey, what’s going—” she starts.
“I threw my vagina at him!” I dramatically collapse onto the floor like Flynn shot me dead.
“What?” Ally giggles.
“Flynn. I think I love him. But I can’t tell him. It’s too early. And when he kisses me … ugh! My insides melt, and I get so …”
