Nothing Like the Movies

Wes

“Oh my God, would you look at our boy?”

I did a spin as I walked into the living room, grinning at AJ and Wade as they mocked my jacket and tie. I knew it was probably overkill for a date, but this wasn’t just any date.

This was the date that had the power to change everything.

So, yes, I spent some extra time on my appearance.

“Is Mick in his room?” I asked, anxious to get going. He’d agreed to let me borrow Alice for the night (after much begging), so I was ready to get the keys and take off.

“Yeah,” Wade said. “But I think he’s on the phone.”

I knocked on the door before pushing it open and saying, “Keys, please.”

Mickey looked up from his computer. “You ready to go?”

“Hi, Wes,” his mom said from the screen, smiling. He talked to her every day, the little mama’s boy, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous of how close they were. “How’s your ankle?”

I glanced at Mick, who shrugged and said, “It’s a funny story, and I had to tell her.”

“It’s better, Mrs. Solomon,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Nice suit.” She gestured with her hands for me to do a spin. “Tonight’s the big date?”

“Christ, did he tell you everything about my life?” I said, laughing in spite of my nervousness as I spun around.

“Of course I did, because she likes to know what my little pals are up to.” Mick pulled his key ring out of his pocket and tossed it over. “Be gentle with Alice—she’s fragile.”

“I will. Thanks a lot, man.”

“No problem.”

“Good night, Mrs. Solomon,” I said, waving to his mother on the FaceTime screen.

“Good night and good luck, Wesley.”

As soon as I closed the door to his room and he started talking again, I put on my shoes. Of course, it was hard to tie them while flipping off AJ and Mick for taking photos like they were my parents and I was going to prom.

I was laughing my ass off as they yelled to me from the stairs, and it wasn’t until I was in the car and driving toward Liz’s place that I got insanely nervous. Not to be with her, because that was the easiest thing in the world to be.

No, I was nervous about how hopeful I was.

It was so close—finally within reach—that I was terrified it was going to disappear.

Which explained why I could barely speak when Liz opened the door and said, “Hi.”

I couldn’t think of a response, or any words at all, so I parroted Liz while my heart rate skyrocketed. “Hi.”

She was standing there in her apartment doorway, looking like a goddess, and I was reduced to a caveman who just stared with his mouth hanging wide open. But she was wearing this frothy, gauzy black dress that exposed her bare shoulders and a lot of leg, leg that was supported by black high heels that had crisscross ties around her ankles.

Hella distracting, those.

“I feel like it’s cliché to say this as I arrive for a date,” I said, lost in the way her long curls framed her face, “but you are so stunning, it hurts, Buxbaum.”

The arch of her eyebrows, the high flush on her cheeks, the clear gloss on her mouth; would I ever get tired of looking at her? Her face was the only thing my eyes ever wanted to see, I swear to God.

And she smelled incredible.

“Thanks,” she said, her lips turning up into a tiny smile. “You look good in a suit, Bennett.”

“Quit hitting on me—I just got here,” I said, trying to calm my nerves.

But tonight felt important for us, like a gateway to the possibility of something. I had no margin for error, no wiggle room, so I was determined to make it count.

“Sorry I’m so aggressive,” she teased. “My bad.”

“You’ve got to ease into it,” I said, loving her tiny smirk as she tilted her head and pretended to be annoyed by me. “Stick with me and I’ll teach you how to have game.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Neither of us spoke as we took the elevator downstairs, but I was impressed by my ability to appear relaxed in spite of the fact that my chest was tight and my heart rate was elevated to what was surely an unhealthy triple-digit readout.

So far, so good.

“Mickey let me borrow his car, and I vacuumed it out, but she’s pretty rough,” I said as we walked outside.

“Alice and I are old friends, so it’s fine,” she said, and I was still amazed that she was already friends with the teammates who were my new friends. “At least she’s running.”

“True,” I agreed, and I was glad she seemed nervous. Hopefully it meant that she saw this night as important too. The good thing was that we both seemed nervous, yet it wasn’t an awkwardness that was heavy on tension.

It was, like, typical first-date jitters.

But then I started the car and things got weird.

She was buckling her seat belt as I pulled away from the curb, and she was humming a little.

Three seconds later she asked, “Is this ‘City of Stars’?”

I kept my eyes on the road, not wanting to seem too self-congratulatory as I said, “It is.”

“Wow,” she said, sounding confused as the song from La La Land swirled around us in Mick’s piece-of-crap car. Confused instead of charmed. “I haven’t heard that in ages.”

I’d intentionally turned it on because she used to love that movie, so I was shocked as hell when she hit the arrow to forward to the next song.

Oh-kay.

Unfortunately, my music was on shuffle, so the next song that came on was “Club Sandwich.” Which meant that instead of romantic date music, Alice’s interior was now being soiled with a punk/rap song about eating a sandwich in the club.

Great running song, but not so great for a date.

“What is this?” she asked, and when I glanced over, she looked like she was fighting back a smile.

Which made everything okay.

“ ‘Club Sandwich,’ ” I replied around a laugh because it was ridiculous that my perfect-date song had been replaced by Joey Valence & Brae. “It’s a great lifting song.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” she teased, a smile finally curving her lips.

I’m in the club with my sandwich

Yo, call that a club sandwich…

“Yeah, I get that,” I said. “But kudos to me for finding a song Liz Buxbaum doesn’t know, right?”

“Sure,” she said, deftly stealing the Bluetooth connection with her phone. “Here—palate cleanser.”

I knew it from the first note, even though she probably assumed I didn’t. I’d listened to a lot of LANY in the Secret Area when I was depressingly alone in Omaha, and “Cowboy in LA” had been one of my favorite ways to pick at the ironic scab that had been my new life.

“Where are you taking me, by the way?” she asked, her eyes out the window.

I thought I’d selected the perfect place, but her knee-jerk deletion of what I’d considered the perfect-date song had me second-guessing my decision. So I said, “It’s a surprise.”

When we moved to LA two years ago, we’d always said we were going to go on a date to the restaurant from La La Land. So my thinking, for tonight, had been What better place to take her for dinner while her favorite song from the soundtrack played on the way?

She didn’t say anything when the restaurant came into sight, and I worried I’d gotten it wrong. I wanted to give her the perfect romantic night, a new beginning to the version 2.0 of our story, and I honestly thought I’d killed it.

I didn’t know why it was wrong, but I could tell it wasn’t right.

“Is that okay?” I asked.

“No, that’s great,” she said, pushing up a very fake smile. “I’m excited.”

It wasn’t, and I suspected she wasn’t.

But why?

Did she hate La La Land now? God, she used to love that movie, even though it made her cry every time.

I hate not knowing her like I used to.

I was fascinated by the person she’d become, but tonight felt like one of those times when I needed to nail the correct answers. So I wasn’t happy when, as I pulled up to the valet stand, the car made a weird noise. It sounded like a cough, then it sputtered, and then it turned off.

No, no, no, no.

“That’s not good,” I murmured, turning the key and giving it gas, but the car just whirred and wouldn’t catch. “Come on, Alice.”

Shit.

“Good evening, sir,” the valet said, pulling my door open as the man looked at the car like it was going to be physically painful for him to have contact with it.

“Miss,” I heard another fancy employee say from the other side of the car as he opened Liz’s door.

“Hang on for a sec,” I said, trying again to get it to start. “It just needs a minute.”

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Liz got out and stepped onto the curb, while I kept trying the same things to get the car to start, even though they weren’t working. Insane much? I could feel the valet glaring at me from his spot beside the car.

“I don’t know what the problem is,” I said, repeatedly turning the key like an idiot.

“Sir, we need this car out of the valet lane,” the valet—Gregor, according to his name tag—said.

Oh, no shit?

“I’m trying, buddy,” I snapped, wanting him to disappear.

“We cannot have it stalled here.” The valet looked over the top of the car and gestured to Liz, like she had the power to make it magically start again.

“Neither can we,” she said, her voice loud. “We’re doing our best here.”

“Sir, you’re going to have to push it out of the way,” the guy said to me, pointing to a spot farther down the street. “Over there, and then you can have it towed.”

I could sense the eyes of other customers on me, as well as Liz’s, and I was mortified. She was probably so embarrassed to be seen with me.

With all this.

“Well, I’m going to need your help, then,” I growled at Valet Dude, gritting my teeth and wanting to rage. “Can you at least get in the car and steer while I push?”

“That’s against policy, I’m afraid,” he said, looking very happy with that fact.

Yeah, you should be afraid, you dick.

“I will,” Liz said, coming around the car. “But I have to say, you are very not helpful, Gregor.”

I would’ve laughed at that, but I was too busy climbing out of the car and being up-close-and-personal with all the onlookers who were staring. I could see in my peripheral vision that my tie was wonky, and my face burned as I said to Liz, “I’ll call Mickey, because you are not helping while dressed like that.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, rolling her eyes as if the thought of not helping was ludicrous.

“No, you’re not,” I repeated, rolling my eyes.

“Shut up and push, Bennett, while I steer,” she said, putting her hands on my chest and giving me a little push out of the way. “And quit looking so grumpy.”

God, I love her.

I looked down into her stubborn face and said, “Fine.”

She climbed into the car and put it in neutral, and when I yelled “go,” she steered while I pushed. It was a warm evening, so I was sweating my ass off when the car was finally parked and Liz got out.

“I am so sorry about this,” I said, taking the keys and setting my hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

“It doesn’t matter.” She shrugged and said, “It’s not even your car.”

I called a tow truck, and once it was arranged, I held out the keys to Gregor, that fuck. “We have a reservation inside, and the tow truck will be here in an hour for the car. Here are the keys.”

Gregor looked at the keys like they were filthy. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to stay with the car until the driver arrives.”

“But we’ll miss our reservation,” I said calmly, refusing to let my anger get the best of me. “I already told the driver to get the keys from the valet.”

“It’s company policy—you have to stay with the car.”

“Can we change our reservation?” Liz asked. “We’ll be in as soon as the car is picked up.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but we are booked this evening so we cannot make any changes.”

“I’ll leave the keys in the car, then,” I said, wanting to lose it. Wanting to throw a temper tantrum because why the hell was this happening on the night where I was supposed to be pulling off the perfect date?

“Sir, you have to stay with your car until the tow arrives.”

I looked at Liz, then said to Gregor, “What if I don’t? It’s not like this is the airport, where cars aren’t allowed to be parked, for God’s sake.”

“We will have your car towed if it’s left unattended, unfortunately, because this is private property.”

“Well, that’s perfect, isn’t it, because it’s already being towed,” I said through clenched teeth, wanting to hurt Gregor the Shit. “We’re going to go eat, Greg.”

I grabbed Liz’s hand and tried to lead her toward the restaurant, but she wasn’t budging. She gave me a look and said, “Wes. It’s Mick’s car. It’s Alice. We can’t have it end up at some random impound lot.”

I dragged a hand through my hair and felt the perfect date slipping away. “But we have a reservation.”

“I’m not even hungry,” she said, shrugging, then added in a very loud voice, “and I heard the food here sucks.”

Marry me, Buxbaum.

She squeezed my hand and said, “Let’s just wait for the tow truck to get Alice, and then we’ll come up with a plan B.”

I sighed and looked for disappointment in her green eyes, but I couldn’t find it. “You sure?”

“I’m positive,” she said, nodding. “Plan Bs are always more fun.”