Page 21 of Last Night Was Fun

Actually, yeah.

Ha! I thought that was only something women had to do to be one of the guys.

It’s all bullshit if you ask me. I’d never judge anyone for not wanting to drink.

Noble of you. Are you drunk right now?

Emmy bit her lip, wondering if that was too far. It felt borderlineYou up?

Unfortunately.

Why unfortunately?

Because I’m old and know I’m going to feel like shit tomorrow.

A laugh leapt from her throat. Loudly enough that Gabe and Pedro turned around to look at her. She wanted to climb a nearby tree and hide.

“What’s so funny, Jameson?” Pedro asked.

Emmy tucked back her hair that had gone billowy and frizzed in the humid night air. “Nothing.”

He frowned at her, his eyes glazed behind his glasses and his cheeks flushed. “With you and Olson grinning at your phones like idiots, I feel like I’m being left out of a joke.”

She noted then Gabe had his phone in his hand too, the little screen casting a blue glow on his face. At least she wasn’t the only one not fully present.

Gabe locked his screen and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He clapped Pedro on the shoulder. “You’re not missing anything, Torres. Now, let’s keep this night going.”

The second bar was just as loud as the first, but it at least had couches. Pedro watched one like a hawk and swooped in when a group got up to leave. Soon, the four of them sat crowded around a low table littered with empty glasses and juiceless lime wedges. The game was, of course, on every TV.

“Aw, what are you thinking, skip? He’s got plenty left!” Silas bellowed at the nearest TV.

Emmy glanced up to see the manager jogging out of the dugout to make a pitching change. She had to agree with Silas: the guy they were taking out for the guy they were putting in wasn’t the best move, at least statistically.

“Maybe he has afeeling,” Emmy said snidely.

Gabe heard the remark that was intended for him and shot her an arrogant glare. “Feelings are valid, Jameson.”

They’d sat next to each other on the cramped couch, so when she turned sideways toward him, her knee brushed his thigh. All the booze slowed her reactions. It took her a hot second to pull away and gain her bearings. “Okay, if they are so valid, and we live in a quantitative world, how do you factor them in? Y equals mx plus b,plusyourfeelings?” she said with a snort, proud of her supremely dorky joke.

Both Pedro and Silas laughed, and it made her heart fizz with satisfaction.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “It’s probably more of a moderation effect, but let’s not split hairs.”

“Oh,please, let us split hairs. I want you to write me an equation that accounts for your baseball spidey senses, since, as you have pointed out to everyone”—she paused and gestured at the group—“Idon’t have them. As someone who’s neverbeen on the field, I want to see evidence for how they factor into your models.” She found a fresh napkin on the table and the pen the previous party had left sitting on their check tray and sloppily shoved both at his chest.

Gabe scoffed and let the bundle fall into his lap.

Emmy gave him a sad puppy dog pout. “Aww, do you not know how, Olson?”

Pedro snickered. “Drunk Jameson is sassy. I like it.”

Emmy looked over to see Pedro and Silas grinning at them, and a wave of embarrassment hit her. At the same time, a wave of badly needing to pee also hit her.

“Be right back,” she said as she pushed herself up out of the low couch to stand. She slightly wobbled and noticed Gabe shoot out his hand to steady her. He didn’t make contact, but he held it there like a safety rail just in case. “I’m fine,” she said on a low breath with a flush in her cheeks.

She wound her way through the crowded room thick with hot air and bodies and turned the corner to find, of course, a line for the bathroom. With a sigh, she leaned against the wall rattling with the bass line pulse of the music next door. While she waited, needing to cleanse herself of the tang of Gabe’s arrogance, she pulled out her phone to continue her conversation with Axe Murderer.

You can’t be old because we’ve already established we’re the same age, and that would mean I’m old.