"Funny." She tilts her head. "You didn't seem grossed out when I told you about my hookup last weekend. And I made sure to includeallthe dirty details."
"That's different."
"How?"
"It just is." I stuff half a slice in my mouth to avoid elaborating.
"Right." She draws the word out, but mercifully changes the subject. "So . . . horror movie? Or do you want to keep pretending you're not obsessing over where Caleb is tonight?"
I throw a balled-up napkin at her head. "Horror movie. Definitely horror movie."
Because I amnotobsessing over Caleb Miller's Valentine's plans. Or the way he always remembers I like extra cheese on my pizza. Or how he leaves doodles on the pizza box to make me smile.
I'm not thinking about any of it.
"So you're saying you'venever been skydiving? Like, not even once?" Izzy leans forward, her bedazzled crop top catching the neon lights overhead. I'd spotted her at The Sunflower Bistro's speed dating event earlier, before we all decided to move this disaster of a double date to Lucky Strike Lanes bowling alley.
"Can't say that I have." I adjust my grip on my beer, buying time to appreciate how her position gives me an excellent view down her shirt. Between the push-up bra, and the way she keeps leaning forward, girl's putting in the effort.Hey, she's trying really hard to show it off, it'd be rude not to look.
"Oh my god." She grabs my forearm, cherry-red nails digging in tight enough to leave marks. "We shouldtotallygo this weekend. I know this place that does tandem jumps, and like, the instructor issuperhot—"
Beside me, Brodie's shoulders tense. I don't need to look to know he's grinding his jaw again, making his tattoos ripple under the dim lights. It had taken twenty minutes of begging and promises of freedrinks to drag his brooding ass out tonight. He's been radiatingget me the fuck out of hereenergy since we walked in, all six-foot-two of him vibrating with regret.
To be fair, this double date wasn't my best idea. I usually avoid Valentine's dates like the plague—too many girls thinking one dinner means wedding bells—but crashing the speed dating to watch Ivy get all flustered over awkward small talk had seemed worth breaking my rule. When she didn't show, I was ready to call it, but then Izzy recognized me from PairUp. Had to do some quick swiping in the bathroom to find our match from god knows when, but hey, beats admitting I didn't remember her at all.
"Your turn, Caleb!" Ava calls out, twirling a strand of pink-streaked hair. The broken disco ball spins sad fractals across the lanes, making her highlights flash purple under the dim lights.
She's been trying to catch Brodie's eye all night, but he's too busy looking like he'd rather be getting a root canal. Can't really blame him. Izzy's friend is giving off serious stage-five clinger vibes.
I push up from the sticky pleather bench, dragging a hand through my rumpled blond curls and stretching just enough to let my T-shirt ride up. Both girls follow the movement, and I catch Izzy's eyes lingering where the fabric pulls across my chest. Years of football gave me a build that walks the line between muscle and softness—the best of both worlds, if you ask me. Brodie makes a disgusted sound into his beer, probably remembering why he hates going out with me. He's more of aget to know someone over coffeekind of guy.
The ball hits dead center, pins scattering beneath strings of dollar store hearts dangling from the ceiling. "Strike!" I spin around with my arms raised, catching Izzy's exaggerated clapping. She's laying it on thick, but that's fine. So am I.
Her crop top rides up as she bounces in her seat, revealing a belly button ring that sparkles under the pink and violetlights. Between that and the Live Laugh Love tattoo peeking out above her low-rise trousers, she's the physical manifestation of a hot girl summer gone rogue.
"Show off," Brodie mutters, though his mouth curls faintly under his perpetual five o'clock shadow.
"Just because some of us have actual game . . ." I drop back onto the bench, deliberately close to Izzy. She smells like vanilla body spray and whatever sugary cocktail she's been nursing all night. At least Lucky Strike makes up for the Valentine's Day explosion of red tinsel with cheap beer and halfway decent nachos.
Ava stands, smoothing down her tiny skirt. "Brodie, want to help me pick a ball?"
The glare he shoots me could melt steel. I smirk back and his eyes narrow, but he unfolds his tall frame and follows her to the ball return.
"Your friend's not very friendly," Izzy observes, trailing her fingers up my leg.
"He's shy." I catch her wrist before she can get too handsy. Not that I'm opposed, this is definitely heading somewhere, just not here. "He used to be worse than me in college. Now he's all grown up and responsible. Owns his own tattoo shop and everything."
"Interesting." Izzy leans closer, her breath hot against my ear. "We should totally go back to my place after. I have this new tantric meditation technique I've been dying to try . . ."
Well that answers the 'where' question, and explains the crystal emojis in her profile. She launches into something about energy alignment and I can't help grinning. Ivy's always trying to get me to take this stuff seriously, too. Actually, with all this spiritual talk, they'd get along, and I almost laugh at that thought. Ivy never seems to like the girls I date, which is fine since they never stick around long enough for it to matter anyway.
"Bathroom!" Ava announces suddenly, grabbing Izzy's arm. "Come with?"
The moment they're gone, Brodie drops back into his seat. "I can't believe James got out of this."
"Dude, he's got that thing with his mom tomorrow." I keep my voice low. "Hospital appointments, you know how it is."
"Since when are you considerate?"
