A normal person would jump at the chance. But of course, my first thought isn’t about spending time with Alex. My first thought is about social anxiety. Go, by myself, to a bar I’ve never been to, to potentially hang out with Alex and his bandmates? Please. The old Jane would run so far and so fast, she’d leave a Jane-sized outline in smoke. I still want to say no. This is totally and completely outside of my comfort zone. I’ll probably do something dumb or make a total ass of myself.

But . . . is this a sign?

And if there’s no tomorrow, what does it matter?

Why not go?

It would be different. Different is good.

I need to change something about this day. And if I do something awkward and embarrassing, as I do, it’s not like anyone else will remember because tomorrow will reset everything, so really, there’s no risk.

I could show up wearing a G-string and cowboy boots and the slate will wipe itself clean overnight like it never happened.

“Yeah. Maybe.” I straighten. “I mean, I’ll go.” My voice shakes only a little.

His whole face lights up with his smile and I can’t help but smile back, even if my lips tremble with the motion. “Really? That would be amazing. Eight o’clock.”

I give him a shaky nod and straighten my shoulders. “I’ll be there.”

Chapter Seven

I’m going to do this. I am. I’m going to change something about this day and I’m going to go to this bar to watch Alex’s band. By myself. Not knowing anyone. All alone.

The words pound through my head, each phrase ramping up my anxiety more and more the closer the train gets to my apartment.

What the hell am I thinking?

I can’t go to a bar by myself. I can’t even go to a bar with other people when I’m invited and I know them and have worked with them for years. The crowds. The smell. People watching me, wondering who is this loser at the bar alone.

And what about after? The thought of spending time with Alex outside of work sends a swarm of crows with razor-sharp talons winging through my stomach. But the thought of showing up and not spending time with him is worse. What if he ignores me? What if he has a new girlfriend and she shows up too, and they both stare at me with pity and a vague sense of unease? What if he’s only inviting me because he thinks I won’t go?

After all, I was removed from Alex’s team because of . . . I shut my eyes, but it doesn’t stop me from hurtling back in time, to when I thought there might be something more between us. One more idiocy to add to the mile-long list.