Page 89 of Meet Cute Reboot

I look behind me. “I don’t think Betsy or Lou Lou followed me here, so, yeah.”

Cassie lifts one corner of her lips. “I only just recently decided you might not be a jerk.”

“I’m...flattered?”

“Okay. I’ll dance.” She stands, wine glass still in hand.

“You have to put that down though.”

She looks at the glass. “Oh.” She sets it on the coffee table and strolls over to me, a little wobbly. She’s already had too much to drink. Always the lightweight.

Maybe I should sit her back down, brew her some coffee, and call it a night. Taylor Swift’s repeated declarations that you aren’t what you did spur me onward. I’m not who I was. I’m not what I did. I hope Cassie believes it.

“I haven’t done this in forever,” Cassie says. She’s anchored in front of me, arms to her sides.

I smile down at her. “I’ll remind you.” I clasp her right hand in my left and reach around, pulling her closer, leaving some light between us.

We rock back and forth tentatively, our bodies stiff like we’re at an eighth-grade dance. Cassie focuses on the knickknacks beside her flat screen TV, her wet hair inches from my face. The scent of her shampoo is a woody lavender with citrus notes. Clean. Fresh. Captivating.

As the song rolls on, we both relax, our hips becoming more fluid, moving of their own accord along with the gentle swells of the music.

Cassie’s eyes track left, pausing on my chest. She inhales deeply, and as she exhales, I feel the remaining tension in her muscles escape.

“This is nice,” she says. She flicks her eyes up to mine.

“It is,” I say. I bow my head, closing some of the gap between our faces. When I smile, she meets my eyes and smiles faintly.

“We’re supposed to be researching,” she says.

“I like this better.”

Cassie licks her lips and then rests her temple against my chest. My breath hitches. I widen my eyes at the large window across from me, at the building next door with its aging bricks and streaks of efflorescence. We stay like this until the songends, me barely able to breathe, Cassie like warm taffy under my hands.

The next song has a peppier beat. Cassie lifts her head and looks at me guiltily. To distract her from whatever inner turmoil she must be feeling, I lift our clasped hands and spin her around before dipping her over my knee. It works, she laughs, and the doubt or guilt she might have felt fades from her eyes.

After I pull her back to her feet, we stand chest to chest, still holding hands. Cassie’s smile turns to a frown. She lifts her chin and locks her eyes onto mine.

“If I’m going to let myself get close to you again, I need to know everything.”

“I’ve told you everything.”

“No. I need details. I don’t know why. I just need to know how you ended up making out with Rose, why you almost kissed your secretary.”

“I told you everything in the email, the day after we broke up. You were ghosting me, so I... Did you get the email?”

Cassie nods. “I did. But I deleted it. I didn’t want to know. Now, I guess I do.”

I wrap my hands around Cassie’s forearms. “Are you sure?” The thought of rehashing my mistakes doesn’t settle well. I don’t want to cause Cassie more pain. I don’t want to share intimate details that might turn her away.

“Yes. I’m sure,” she says.

But if the details of my indiscretions will help her heal, I won’t deny her. So, I tell her about the night Rose came over in that godforsaken tube top with that cheap box of wine. How I should have told her to leave. How instead I let her cry mind numbingly about her breakup, and how I drank away my discomfort and inhibitions. “Her tank top went down, and then I made some poor decisions.”

Cassie and I are on the couch now. She finishes her glass of wine and moves to refill the glass.

“You might want to rethink that,” I say as gently as possible. “Believe me, I know what can happen when you drink yourself into oblivion to avoid uncomfortable situations.”

Cassie pauses with her hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. She studies me for a moment and then lifts the bottle to her lips and takes a swig. She presents the bottle to me, but I shake my head and hold up both hands. She shrugs and then sets the bottle loudly on the coffee table.