Josh and Hazel's Guide to Not Dating - Christina Lauren Page 0,71
day-drunk, aging Gen Xers?” I ask.
She smacks my shoulder and then turns, bouncing, throwing her arms up in a distractingly catlike stretch. I glance at Tyler as he watches Hazel sway to nothing but voices and the crowd shifting around us. His attention goes from her to the groups in our immediate proximity, some of whom are watching her with curious looks. And then he looks back to her, eyes tight.
“Come sit by me, Craze.”
Irritation shoves the words out of me: “I’m not sure that’s a great nickname, Ty.”
Tyler—I’ve known him at the gym for a few years now. He’s always seemed like a good guy, usually smiling, helps spot anyone who needs it. But right now, he’s looking at me like he sees every seductive thought I have about the woman dancing before us and he’s figuring out how he can pull my brain out through my nostrils.
“Well, it’s my nickname for her, Josh.”
“Always?”
He shrugs. “Starting now.”
I can’t help but push. “What did you call her in college?”
Tyler smirks. “ ‘Babe.’ ”
Well, I guess I can understand why he’d want to go for something more original this time around.
“Because that’s what she was,” he says, looking me up and down a little now, appraising what he must realize is the competition. How did he not see it before? Hazel and I are together all the time. “She was my babe.”
With impeccable timing, Hazel turns and plops down cross-legged in front of us. “Who was your babe?”
Tyler scratches his jaw, fidgeting. “You.”
Her frown is immediate. “I was your babe?”
I lean back on my hands, grinning at them both.
“I was just telling Josh, that’s what I called you in college,” he clarifies.
“You did?”
God, this is so deliciously awkward. He glances at me, huffing a little. “Yeah. Remember?”
She screws up her nose, and then looks at me, gauging my reaction. The realization that she always looks to me, for solidarity, for my opinion, for reassurance, lights a fuse in me, and it’s honestly all I can do to keep from leaning forward and kissing her in front of him.
The roadies clear the stage closest to us, and cheers rise like a wave across the park. My phone buzzes at my hip with a text from Sasha. “Sasha says she found some friends down in the pit and is going to hang there if anyone wants to join her.”
“Who’s opening?” Hazel asks Tyler.
He blinks blankly at her for a beat, and then smiles patiently. “Metallica.”
“They’re opening? I thought they were headlining.”
Tyler’s wince makes me want to giggle. “No, they’re getting it started.”
“I don’t think I can handle that much body slamming at ten in the morning,” she says, with a genuine smile back.
With a look to me, and then a look to her, he pushes up and lopes off to meet Sasha down near the stage.
··········
As soon as he’s gone, we both flop back on the grass and stare up at the churning clouds overhead.
“It might rain,” I say.
“That cloud looks like a turtle.”
I follow where she’s pointing. “It looks like a bowl of popcorn to me.”
She responds to this with a simple “I feel like you and Tyler don’t like each other anymore.”
Rolling my head to the side to look at her, I say, “What makes you think that?”
“There was some testosterone-y thing happening just now.”
“About him calling you ‘babe’?” I look back at the sky. “I don’t know, I think ‘babe’ is the world’s lamest nickname.”
That might be hyperbole; I just really don’t like Tyler today.
“You never called anyone ‘babe’? Not even Tabby?”
“Not even Tabby.”
She makes a little thoughtful noise next to me and then falls quiet.
“Did you have fun on your date the other night?” I ask.
I can hear her grin when she says, “You mean, before you showed up?”
“Yeah.”
“It was okay. I wasn’t feeling great, and he really loves to reminisce about Ye Olden Days, but it seems like he’s trying so hard, I don’t really want to dog him.”
When I don’t reply, she adds, “I think you’re right that it’s worth giving him another chance.”
The air around me goes still. “When did I tell you to give him another chance?”
Her neck flushes and she looks at me, brow furrowed. “The morning after . . . the last time we . . . You said to give him another chance.”
Pushing up onto an elbow, I stare down at her. “I said if it’s where your head is, then it’s worth giving him another chance. It was about you, and what you