Page 13 of Good Girl’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #4)

ainsley

“Holy smokes, that was close.”

Mia and I both let out a big sigh of relief as we walk into the karaoke bar in downtown Nashville that I didn’t even know existed.

“Girl, I hate your ex. Like despise him. But if he’s the reason I got you down here, then maybe I need to buy him a drink.” She pauses as she looks for a table. “Actually, no. I can’t even do that. Maybe I won’t key his car. Yeah, that feels fair.”

I want to laugh at her joke, but I can’t because my eyes are wide as we walk through the bar.

People are everywhere, cheering and singing along with a bad rendition of an ABBA classic by a bachelorette party.

Mia tries to go snag a table in the front, but I immediately grab her arm and pull her back.

“We can’t be that close,” I say, looking around for another table. “Oh! There’s one.”

The table I pull her toward is closer to the bar, surrounded by people, and most importantly, away from the stage. I’m not even mad that there aren’t any chairs at it.

“I know it’s going to take a miracle to get you on stage tonight, and one already happened to even get you here, but you won’t even sit near the stage?”

“No! What if they’re not good, and I make a face and they see? I’d feel bad.”

Mia laughs under her breath. “Only you, Ainsley. Only you.”

My best friend heads to the bar to grab our drinks and I let out a breath as a new song comes on.

Why is Jonathan in Nashville? He’s not originally from the area, but he went to med school at Vanderbilt before his residency at Nashville Children’s.

He does have some friends here, but where were they?

On their way? Jonathan didn’t go anywhere alone, let alone a bar, so that doesn’t seem right.

And even if that was the choice, why was he at that bar?

He had to know he might run into me there. It’s been my regular bar for years.

Was he there for me? No, that’s silly. He can’t be. We broke up more than three years ago. Sure, he was sad then, but he has to be over it, right?

I feel my eyes get big and stop blinking. Because my mind is officially racing.

What if he is back? Would that mean he still wants me back?

If that’s true, then he’s not going to stop hounding me until I finally give in.

Which I will. I know who I am as a person.

I’ll feel bad, and he’ll catch me in a moment of weakness—much like the one I was in this week—and just give in.

And then, I’ll feel bad breaking up with him again, so I’ll have a lifetime of cloud classifications to look forward to.

Or, on the other hand, if I say no, is he going to go all creepy stalker on me? I’ve never been a dark romance girlie, let alone in real life.

“Oh no. What happened? Where is he? Do I have to kill him?”

I take a breath and give myself a little shake. “I’m fine. I just let my mind wander for a minute.”

“I get it,” Mia says, handing me my club soda. “It’s like seeing a ghost.”

I take a sip as my heart rate comes down. “It’s just…what are the odds of all this happening this week? And why was he at the bar? That had to be because of me, right? He only went there with me. Or am I being conceited?”

Mia shakes her head and picks up one of the three shots she brought back to the table. “No, you aren’t. He found you the second he walked in. That was on purpose. Which is why it’s best that we came here. Because unless he followed us, no way would he ever expect you here.”

She’s right about that. And Jonathan is a lot of things, but actual stalker isn’t one.

Hopefully. Except I did make him watch that one Netflix show…

“Hey, ladies, I noticed you just came in. Welcome.” Mia and I look over to a waitress who hands us a piece of paper. “These are the instructions for how you can put your name in the queue to sing. If you have any questions, just give me a shout.”

I slide the paper to Mia. “Oh, that’s for her. I don’t sing.”

“Famous last words,” she says. “One thing to know about karaoke is that no matter how bad you are, there’s always someone worse. Believe me on that one.”

“And we can’t wait to hear them,” Mia jokes as she walks away. “Now let’s see…what should I start out with?”

“You’re going to sing?”

Mia shoots me an “duh” look. “Why wouldn’t I? I didn’t spent days on end in my misspent youth learning words to very specific rap verses to just sit here.”

“You could sing in your shower. Or your car.”

“Oh I do that anyway,” Mia starts typing on her phone, which is how I’m guessing you put your name in.

“And I don’t want to push you too far. I know getting here was enough.

And I guess thanks to Jonathan for that.

But, maybe if I show you it’s not that bad, maybe I can convince you to a duet?

Maybe we could tell everyone why Earl had to die? ”

I laugh at that prospect. “I’d have to start drinking again for that to happen. And I might’ve slightly crashed out earlier, and I also saw my ex for the first time in years, but even those put together is not enough to get me to try liquor again.”

“Wait! Again? Meaning you’ve done it before?” Mia grabs the second shot off the table and throws it back before slamming her hands on the table. “How did I not know this? I just always thought it was a no-no because it’s semi-rebellious and you are, well, not…”

I laugh at the dramatics of my best friend. But then again, I do understand why for her this would be very much breaking news. “Yes, again. I’ve drank once. Well, one and a half.”

“Forget Jonathan. Forget karaoke. This is the story I need to hear.”

“It was my twenty-first birthday,” I begin.

“Of course, because it was against the rules to drink before you were legal.”

“Exactly,” I say. “Anyway, being that I had never drank, my whole family was excited. My birthday was on a Wednesday, and I was planning on going home that weekend to celebrate with my family, but my sorority sisters were bound and determined to take me out. Actually, we were cliche Nashville and went to Tootsies.”

“That tracks.”

“Yes. And things were going fine. I was having a good time. Taking shots, making sure I drank water between, because I knew I needed to stay hydrated.”

“We love a responsible queen.”

I was. Until I wasn’t. “Well, the responsibility went right out of the door when someone handed me a shot of J?germeister.”

I watch as Mia visibly shivers. “Are you meaning to tell me that your aversion to alcohol is because of the dark liquor of death?”

“Pretty much,” I say with nod. “I puked for two days. I barely made it back to Rolling Hills for my birthday. I tried to take a drink, but the smell of alcohol made me gag. I convinced the lovely bar owner to substitute my shots of vodka for water. The club soda and cranberry? It was the drink he gave me to make it look like I had some sort of fruity drink. I’ve drank it ever since. ”

“Damn,” she says. “Many of us say that we’re never drinking again after visiting the Porcelain Princess then go back within a week. Your willpower is amazing.”

“What can I say? When I commit, I don’t waver.”

Mia laughs as the song and performer changes. The two guys who get up on stage look familiar as they start rapping a boy band classic, but I can’t put my finger on it so I turn back to Mia.

“Now, I don’t want this to come out as peer pressure-y,” she says. “But have you ever wanted to take a drink again?”

“Sometimes,” I admit. “But it’s more out of FOMO.

Take tonight, for example, pre-Jonathan.

Your martini looked good, and I felt like my being depressed over my singlehood didn’t hit the same with club soda.

And there have been times I’ve wondered what the wine my sisters shared was like.

But never enough to take my chances again. ”

“That’s fair. It also tracks. Knowing how you are with actual rules, it makes sense you’d be like that with self-imposed ones.”

“Exactly,” I say. “Rule follower to the core.”

“One day I’m going to get you to be a little bad,” she says with a wink. “And it’s going to be the best day of my life.”

I laugh. “Many have tried. All have failed. Remember, my sister is Quinn Banks. If she can’t get me to act up, I don’t know if it’s possible.”

And believe me, growing up, she tried. I’m the next born sibling to her, so I think she felt it as her duty to try to get me in trouble.

Or at least, an accomplice to her crimes.

Even at a young age, I wanted nothing to do with it.

It only took me going to time-out once to know I never wanted to be in that corner again.

Once I hit middle school, I realized I needed to put my good-girl ways into overdrive. When teachers look at you and mutter, “Are you Quinn’s sister?”, you do everything you can to make sure you break any sort of preconceived notion they have about you.

Because of course they couldn’t remember that Maeve was a prized student.

Or that Simon might’ve caused some trouble, but teachers loved him too much to care.

No, all they remembered was the most recent.

Though in their defense, Quinn was a memorable student, and not for positive reasons.

Which is why it’s hilarious that she went into education.

However, what I didn’t realize was that going out of my way to be the good girl of the Banks bunch triggered what I’d learn later was a people-pleasing mentality.

I loved it when teachers praised me for a good job.

Or for being the only one to follow directions.

And not only did I want their approval, I was fueled by it.

I still am. I live for when a doctor compliments my work.

Or when a new mama thanks me for everything I did for her.

Of course, I love my job, and bringing new babies into the world is the best feeling I can imagine.

But a patient telling you that you made their experience better? It’s a close second.