Page 40 of The Other Side

I shift my attention to the side. “Agh, no,” I sigh. “I was at the Golden Prairie Music Fest.” We both shuffle in our stools to lean our arms over the counter. “Gosh, could you imagine if we were at the same festival?”

He wipes a palm over his peppered jaw, his corded forearm maneuvering with the gesture. “I’d have to turn in my credibility,” he quips.

I smile when he nestles a fist in his opposite hand to lean his lips against his knuckles. His head turns to me, a spark of confidence triggered inside his eyes.

“There’s no way I’d miss you.”

“You would have if you caught me at the Electric Dance Music Festival in New York City,” I counter before sipping my beer. The malty flavor dribbles down my throat, the liquid brewing more courage. “Fishnet stockings and frayed jean shorts. You would’ve hardly recognized me.”

“Do we have photo receipts of this?” he asks.

I lift the nozzle of my beer to my lips again, gulping the urge to tell him about all of my receipts.

Another time, Callie.

“I’m sure they’re somewhere in my phone,” I answer, and my head pivots his way again. “It was actually the first night I threw up from drinking, so the pictures get progressively more chaotic.”

The corner of his mouth lifts above the spout of his beer. “What else?”

I shake my head. “I mean, that was really it. After that night, I vowed never to drink like that ag⁠—”

“No,” he interrupts. “What other stories are there?”

I staple my gaze to his, our goodbye framed inside his hazel eyes.

“Write me a million stories, Dove. I’ll be waiting.”

Like a bee to honey, I’m reeled into our time capsule. Ready to unveil anything and everything he wants to hear. “I went skiing for the first time in Vermont,” I blurt softly. “It was during winter break of senior year. I went with Aunt Kerri and my half-cousins.”

“Tell me you made it to the green slopes,” he teases.

“I did,” I admit, “but not without falling every ten feet.”

He shines a smirk when he rests his beer on the bar top. “The trick is to just let yourself fall. Don’t think about it, and don’t think about the people around you. They’ll move out of your way.”

My brow perks as I smile tenderly. “You’ve skied?”

“I’ve been a few times with Sean and some other college buddies,” he responds. “We’ve made a few trips to Pennsylvania. Rented a house for the longer weekends.”

I grin, averting my eyes from his and mindlessly spinning the beer bottle between my fingers. “I’ve been to Cancun.”

“With Jesse?”

My stare concentrates on the gold accents on the rich-green label of my drink. “No,” I reply. “A few girlfriends from college. I was twenty-four. We always promised each other a vacation once we graduated.”

“How was it?”

“As amazing as you’d imagine,” I say, my attention still dodged from his. “Turquoise water and white sand. It was paradise.”

“What else?” he pushes.

“I’ve been on a ferry to visit Mohegan Sun. Got caught up in slots a little too much when I finally got there. But the rush was worth it, I don’t care what anyone says,” I tell him. “I went hiking Upstate in the Watkins Glen area. Got to see Taughannock Falls. I won a dance-off in a bar when I was twenty-five. It was a rooftop bar in Manhattan.”

“Oh, tell me there’s a video.”

A chuckle trickles from me. “Sorry to disappoint,” I say, raising my eyes to him. “How about you?”

“I rented a beach house in North Carolina with friends. There were other people our age vacationing in the neighboring rentals, so we meshed groups and threw some wild parties. In fact, some of us wound up skinny dipping in the ocean.” His head briefly tilts to the side. “Backing out on a dare isn’t really my specialty.”