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I’m going to have to buy these ridiculous shoes.

Two more steps and the back of my head hits the shelving behind me.

I don’t care, I could catch fire and I still wouldn’t break away from her stare.

Assuming someone would notice and put me out.

“I gave you just as many, which made us even.”

She steps back with a smirk, and I know she got exactly what she wanted. To get me all hot and bothered when there’s nothing to be done about it. Not only have we not broached anything sexual recently, but I’m not one for fooling around in public places.

On second thought, if she pulled me into a bathroom stall right now, I’d do anything she wanted.

“‘Even,’” she repeats. “We’ll see how long that stays true.”

“Okay. What about him?” I point to guy I would’ve gone for back when I still giving the opposite gender a chance. His hair is black, and shiny. He has a Nirvana shirt on with dark blue jeans.

“Stop staring, his girlfriend looks like she’s rip the head off anyone that breathes on him.”

I’m surprised to notice she’s right, I hadn’t even clicked the girl standing next to him.

“Do you find him attractive?”

“No.”

“Okay, what about him?” Tall. Blonde. Skinny. Has a child with him in line to get Subway.

“Not at all.”

I peer over her. “Is it because he has a kid?”

“No! It’s because if he had darker hair, he would look a little too much like Miles.”

Miles would never wear sweats in public, but I don't tell her that.

“Good thing he doesn’t have darker hair.”

“I don’t feel any attraction to him at all. To any of these guys.”

I pause, weighing my words before they fall out.

“Do you think it might just be because you like me so much? Maybe it’s not that you’ve switched sides, maybe I’m just so special that no one could catch your eye right now.”

She fights a smile, and I can’t help mine in return.

She points to a girl sitting alone on her phone.

“She’s pretty. I don’t know that I would run up and grab her number or anything.” She looks at me. “I already like someone a lot. But I think that girls chances are still higher than any of the men in the building.”

“Got it,” I say as I feel myself blush.

It doesn’t get old to hear her admit she likes me.

34

“Idon’t care for bars. Or most public places, really,” she tells me as she’s braiding her hair in front of my bathroom mirror.

She’s sitting on top of the counter, having pushed all of my clutter out of the way. I heard my can of hairspray fall over and clatter against the granite. I’m hoping she’ll pick it up when she’s done, but not counting on it.