“You guys are weird.” Jonas tosses a handful of candy into his mouth. “We need a rematch so I can kick your butt and never see the scuba diving move again.”
Before she pulls away, Whit’s fingernails skate down the length of my arm. They might as well have been dipped in poison, the way my skin burns and my heart nearly stops.
“Please.I’ll be doing it at your wedding one day.” Joining him on the couch, she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs. With the flip of a switch, she’s right back intogamer mode. “Maybe even at your funeral tonight. We’ll see how this next race goes.”
Just as I was starting to find Whit’s mossy-green stare more intriguing than intimidating to me, this competitive streak showed up out of nowhere. And an hour later, when a frustrated Jonas demands their sixth rematch of the night—despite his mom mopping the floor with him every time—I find myself shaking my head at her, practically begging for mercy on his behalf. She might make the kid cry.
“Not tonight, kiddo,” she says. “You should head to bed. It’s late.”
His shoulders fall, an instant pout appearing on his weary face. If the bags under his eyes are any indication, he’s mere minutes from falling asleep.
“Yeah, I should head out,” I say, hoping it’ll help push him to listen to his mom. “It’s way past my bedtime. I think you and I need to practice so we can kick Whittaker from the leaderboard, though.”
Jonas yawns, hauling himself from the couch with a groan. “Yeah. We should team up next time.”
After ensuring Betty receives bedtime scratches behind her ear, he starts up the stairs to his room, dragging ass.
“Night, dude,” I call after him.
A moment later his bedroom door shuts, and I find myself alone with Whit—a position I’ve beendyingto be in.
“Thanks for having me over tonight.”
“Jonas loves hanging out with you.”
A question of whether she enjoys it weighs on my mind.
“He’s a really cool kid. Although, having seen your enamel pin collection and your dance moves, I guess it should come as no surprise that he’s so great.”
She fiddles with the frayed hem of her shorts.
“I should clean up and get to bed.” Her eyes land on mine for half a heartbeat, and they’re hazy.
My heart writhes and twists in my chest. Whit tuckswhatever it is she’s feeling behind the false wall of a half-hearted smile, moving to clean the candy and pizza shrapnel littering the coffee table.
“Let me help you.” I grab a handful of candy wrappers and follow her into the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about it. You have a long drive home. I can deal with this mess.” She shies away from my proximity, taking the long way around the far end of the island to get back to the living room. Our shared looks were full of longing all night, and now that we don’t have a kid interrupting any attempts at flirtation, she’s refusing to look at me. Talk about whiplash.
As I clean, while also following her like a lost puppy dog, I pretend not to notice how far she’s going out of her way to keep distance between us. Eventually, she’s skillfully herded me right to the front door. Betty could stand to take notes.
“Whit…I, uh…”I, uh, lose all train of thought.
She pulls the door open, fingers clenched around the handle, letting Betty run outside into the warm summer air.
“Thanks for tonight,” she says in a bizarrely professional, monotone voice, like she’s escorting me out of a job interview. Her green eyes look nearly black in the dim light, and they’re boring into my soul. “It was really fun.”
I want to tell her this was the best night I’ve had in a long time. And I want to ask her on a date. And I’d really love it if she’d let me kiss her goodnight.
“Tonight was—I mean, uh, I had a good…fun time. A good, fun time was had.”Okay, now form words into a sentence that doesn’t sound so fucking weird.“If you—no pressure—wanted a fun night…m-maybe we have another night?”
Oh, God. Am I having a stroke?
“I’m sure Jonas would love another fun night with you.”
“Would you?”
“Yeah, I would.” Her mouth twitches side to side. “Thanks for being a good friend. I don’t think you understand howmuch your friendship has done for me…and Jonas. It’s…thank you.”
