The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood 1)

“God, I hope he never puts up curtains,” Lilith said wistfully.

I smirked. “You pervert.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Our server arrived, a scrawny guy with sideburns that were too long, carrying our dinners and aiming an enormous smile at Lilith. He was practically drooling in our food, but she didn’t notice. Not the drool, or the guy producing it, either. Perhaps she was used to guys falling over themselves around her.

He dropped off my fajitas with a loud thud, and slowly slid her salad in front of her like he was presenting her his heart on a satin pillow. As she readied her fork, she gave him a quick, “thanks,” and then dug in.

He slunk away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

I’d only been friends with her for the summer, but if I knew one thing for certain, it was that Lilith would chase a bunny around an exam table all day, but she did not chase men. At least, not unless she absolutely had to have him.

“Dinner’s on me tonight,” she said as she crunched a crouton.

“You don’t have to do that.” The restaurant was just across the parking lot from the strip mall that held the vet clinic, and we always left our cars parked there after our day was over. I assumed she was going to order a second beer. “I don’t mind driving you home tonight.”

“I’m not buying you dinner for being my designated driver, I’m buying it to lessen the blow that I can’t go to the Joven concert next weekend.”

“What?” I froze mid-bite. We’d bought our tickets weeks ago, and I was dying to see them live.

“I screwed up. I thought my cousin’s wedding was this weekend, but it’s not, and my mom’s being a jerk about me bailing. I can’t get out of it.” She gave me sad, puppy-dog eyes. “I’m really sorry. Do you want to try to sell our tickets? Or I can still pay for mine if you want to go with someone else.”

I gazed at the sizzling skillet of fajitas in front of me. I was disappointed she couldn’t go, but I still really wanted to. Did I know anyone else who liked Joven?

Oh.

I did. He’d caught me dancing in my swimsuit to their music once in his darkened garage. Plus, he wasn’t on-call that weekend.

“Your face is weird,” Lilith said abruptly, staring at me through the steam from my food. “What are you thinking about?”

“Doing something crazy,” I said. “Like, maybe asking Greg if he wants to go.”

Her eyes widened along with her smile. She liked this bad idea a lot. “Oh my God, do it.”

SEVENTEEN

THE SUN WAS GLARING, and my palms were sweaty as I thumbed out the message on my phone.

Cassidy: Are you on your way?

The sidewalk outside the Bridgestone Arena was full of people streaming up the concrete steps into the main entrance. The crowd was jovial, and the fans were a wide range of ages. Occasionally, some guy would give me a second glance, as if wondering about the girl waiting in the shadow of the tall, silver building while constantly checking her phone.

My feet hurt, and I shifted uncomfortably on the heels I’d let Lilith talk me into wearing.

When I’d climbed into the Uber and headed for the concert, I’d felt awesome. My skinny black pants fit perfectly, and no tan lines were showing in my blue sleeveless top. My hair was cooperating too, letting me curl my brown locks into soft waves with volume, instead of the flat, stick-straight way I normally wore it. I’d watched YouTube tutorials on ‘date night makeup’ and followed painstakingly along, so I was confident my makeup didn’t look like it’d been applied by a drunken clown.

But the Uber had dropped me off at the Nissan gate outside the arena more than thirty minutes ago, and I wasn’t feeling awesome now. Greg and I were supposed to meet here at six thirty, and the opening act of the concert had started at seven. I’d hung out in a state of annoyance for the last ten minutes, but as the clock continued to tick along, my irritation turned.

I looked back at the texts I’d sent him over the last thirty-five minutes.

Cassidy: I’m here!

Cassidy: Nissan gate. Standing next to the Jack Daniel’s sign.

Cassidy: We said 6:30, right?

Something was wrong. Why wasn’t he responding? He wasn’t on-call with the hospital, so that couldn’t be the problem.

A sensation of cold shivered through me, despite the July heat and humidity. Had he forgotten, or had he changed his mind? I abruptly felt like a fool, standing on the sidewalk in the most sexed-up outfit I owned, waiting for a man who clearly wasn’t going to show.

How much longer should I wait, and . . . did I really want to go into the concert by myself, now that my evening had been ruined? I stared up at the series of doors, debating what to do. Lilith would say “fuck him,” go inside, and have the time of her life. I wasn’t angry at her, but mad at the situation. If she’d gone with me, I’d never have invited Greg and—