“He wanted to invite me to a party tomorrow night.” Perfect segue.
“And he thought the middle of the night was the ideal time to extend that invitation?”
“This profession, it doesn’t keep regular business hours. It’s an any day, any time type of gig. I knew that getting into it.”
When the guys crossed the road to the other side, Soren’s eyes came back to me. “Yeah, but that wasn’t a business call. That was a social call.”
“You make that sound so scandalous.”
“He’s a single dude in his forties calling a nineteen-year-old in the middle of the night to invite her to a party. That’s the definition of scandalous.”
“He’s my agent.”
“He’s a man first and foremost.”
Exasperated, I indicated at him. “If I followed that string of logic, then what in the world am I doing living alone with you?”
“Ah, but I’m a man with a moral code. There’s a difference.”
“How do you know Ellis doesn’t have a moral code?”
Soren blinked at me. “Do I need to restate for a third time the call he just made?”
“So how do you tell the guys with moral codes from the ones without? Am I looking for some halo, badge, or insignia?”
As we approached the bar, Soren draped his arm around me and drew me close. It was one of those biker bar looking places that had just as many people outside smoking as they did inside drinking.
“You feel it, that’s how,” he answered.
“You feel it,” I echoed, blinking at him.
“Yeah, you know, in your gut. You can look at a person and feel what they’re really about.”
“In my gut,” I said, not masking my sarcasm.
“Come on. You felt it when you met me that day you moved in. You might have been surprised and apprehensive, but you could feel—in your gut—that I was one of the good guys.”
“You read the sports section of Mr. Matthews’ newspaper every morning and put it back before he gets his paper.”
Soren glanced at the sky like he was looking for divine intervention or something. “Yeah, but you knew I wasn’t the type of guy you had to worry about waking up to find him towering over you, touching himself, while he watched you sleep, right?”
My nose curled for him. My toes curled for me. “I guess?”
“No, you know. And I know you know, so let’s move on to your agent.”
As we walked by the bar, a few whistles sounded and a couple of motorcycle engines revved.
Soren’s response was waving his middle finger and tucking me closer. “So what’s your gut tell you about him?”
My brain wasn’t ready to acknowledge what my gut told me about Ellis Lawson. My shoulder lifted. “I don’t know. He’s my agent. It’s not like I’m moving in with him or anticipating a marriage proposal.”
Soren huffed. “Come on. You know.”
“Will you stop telling me what I know and don’t know already? You might want to add Know-It-All in that character column of yours.”
Soren didn’t drop his arm once we’d passed the bar. I didn’t slide away from it either. “Your resistance to giving an answer is an answer. I don’t need you to say it out loud.”
I looked at him, my eyes drawn to his jawline. He’d nicked himself shaving in a few places, probably because he’d been trying to get in and out of the bathroom quickly so I could use it too. “Don’t need me to say what out loud?”
Soren cleared his throat as we approached the subway entrance. “That the guy’s a creep.”
“Ellis is not a creep.”
“Want to try that one more time? Sprinkle a little conviction into that tone of yours?” When I elbowed him in the ribs, he laughed. “Okay, okay. Enough about your creeper agent. You know it, and I know it. Let’s move on to another topic, like what fast food joint we’re going to hit up on the way back to the apartment.”
Soren came around me so I could use the handrail to climb down the subway stairs. “Actually, I have something to ask you. Kind of a favor.” My teeth worked at my lip.
“Name it.” Soren hung beside me, matching every step I took.
“The party tomorrow night, at Ellis’s—”
“Aka, Super Creeper,” he mumbled.
I kept going. “I asked if I could bring someone with me, and he said that would be okay.”
“Yeah?” His voice gave away a hint of surprise.
Ask him. Just ask him. You’re not asking for him to be your baby daddy or anything. You’re asking him to be your wingman at a party. “Would you go with me?”
Soren leaned in. “Sorry. I didn’t hear that.”
Yeah, I couldn’t even hear that.
My back straightened as I took a breath. “Would you go with me? To the party tomorrow night?”
Soren paused on the step he was on. When I turned to see what was the matter, I found an odd look on his face.
“Me?” He pointed at his chest. “You want me to go with you to this fancy party? Not one of your model friends?”
I could have invited Jane or Ariel. I could have invited a few of the other friends I’d made from seeing the same faces at go-sees and waiting in the same waiting rooms over the past couple of months. I wasn’t sure how to explain that he was the only person I’d thought of when I asked if I could bring someone.
“If you don’t want to come, or can’t, that’s okay. I can ask someone else—”
“No. I can come. I want to come.” He moved down the last few stairs to stop beside me. “I’m just surprised is all.”
“Surprised why?”
“That you voluntarily invited me to spend a night with you.” When my eyes widened, he lifted his hand. “To spend an evening with you. Evening.”
“Why is that a surprise?” We were roommates; we were together a lot.
“Because usually I’m the one forcing myself on you”—his eyes squeezed shut, the other hand lifting in the air—“imposing myself on you.”
“I came to your game tonight. Willingly. And to the party after. Also willingly.”
“Yeah, but this is different.” When I glanced at him as he moved toward the subway platform, he elaborated. “Because this time you’re inviting me to something.”
“I invite you to things.”
He turned to face me. “Like what?”
My mouth opened before my mind had generated a response. I couldn’t think of an instance. There wasn’t a time I’d invited him to go do something with me—it had always been the other way around. Of course I’d done that in my quest to keep some distance between us, but I was surprised he’d noticed.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No apology needed. It’s just nice to know you might actually kinda like me.” He winked as the subway screeched to a stop. He took my hand to pull me away from the doors so people could climb off. “I was starting to think you hated my guts and were just too nice to say so.”