He tucks a loose strand behind my ear and his rough hand brushes against my cheek in a pleasant way.
“I had a piece of cake,” he says, continuing the story like we have to see it through to the end if only to reconcile once and for all.
“Sponge cake,” I all but choke out.
“I offered you a bite.”
His hands drift to my upper arms, locking me in place because if he knows me at all, he’s aware I’m ready to bolt. It’s getting too intense. Risking removing one hand, he gently tilts my chin so I’m looking at him once more.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to say what I’d planned to. I’m sorry I didn’t rush after you. I’m sorry, I didn’t think of a different way to ask you what I’d been desperate to say for months.”
I tip my head as thoughts race around and around in a loop. “What do you mean?”
Chase bites his lip. “After I gave you that stupid piece of fake cake, my line was supposed to be, ‘I was hoping it would be a piece of cake to ask you to prom.’”
My pulse takes off so fast, I’m practically spinning. Chase’s hands remain on my arms, holding me in place.
“This is no excuse, but where I originally went to high school, we had a thing called a ‘Promposal.’ Guys would stage cheesy or elaborate scenes to ask a girl to prom. Usually, they involved puns that put Dad Jokes to shame.”
“I happen to like Dad Jokes.”
Chase’s lips bunch up with a grin. “But that one didn’t translate well.”
“I didn’t know. It’s just that I got pranked most of the year, and figured that was just another in a long string of...”
“I see that now. Also, the truth is, I chickened out. If anything, I should be embarrassed for being such a scared dweeb, but Freddie can be?—”
“What does my brother have to do with this?” As soon as the question passes my lips, understanding looms like my twin on the rugby field. “Do you mean that he warned you against asking me out?”
“Not in so many words, but I did take a few extra hard hits at practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
“Chemistry lab days.” A long moment passes as I piece everything together, as my heart catches up with the truth.
Chase shrugs those massive, strong shoulders as if to say,Yeah.
“Also, remember when I bumped into you? Well, it was on purpose, torn from the how-to-meet-girls playbook. I hate to admit this, but back home, I thought I was the golden boy. Top on my team. Had a girlfriend, loads of friends, and party invites. My father ripped me out of my perfect and comfortable life. In hindsight, it was the best thing that happened to me.”
I adjust my glasses. “You know what they say about twenty-twenty vision.”
“Before Hinnifin, I didn’t have to try to meet girls.”
“Oh, here he is. The cocky bad boy is back.”
He nudges me with his shoulder, sending those heart fluffies scattering like flower petals in the wind.
“Ha ha. But going abroad humbled me.”
I give him a long look.
“A little. The truth is, I didn’t know how to approach a girl like you.”
“A girl like me?”
“You were different.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Pippa, I think you know what I mean.”
