That night, I wore pressed jeans, a yellow Polo shirt, and Vans with ankle socks to the reading at the bookstore. I sat next to my friends and listened avidly to the mystery that was unfolding in words before me. Once the author was finished, I clapped along with everyone else and then joined the line to buy an autographed copy of the book.
“You all right, Bridges?” Sonny asked as he, Bruce, and I left a little while later.
I had told both of them about my run-in with Noah while we’d waited for the reading to begin. “I’ll be fine. I just hadn’t seen that coming. Should have expected it, though. Noah always thought of himself first, above all else.”
“I’d punch him out right now if he were here,” Sonny said, flexing his muscles.
I kissed his cheek. “Thank you, but I can handle it. Why do
