Even the air felt held between us, charged and delicate.
Then Beck called out from the hall:
“Come on, Carson, I’ll show you the bulletin board of shame!”
Carson broke eye contact at last.
But not before something flickered across his expression.
Something aware.
Something that echoed the same unsettling truth thudding under my ribs:
I wasn’t ready for dinner tonight.
Not even remotely.
And I was absolutely going anyway.
Carson turned to follow Beck out of the kitchen, but he didn’t move right away. He lingered, just long enough that anyone paying attention could see he wasn’t ready to look away from me yet.
Unfortunately,everyonewas paying attention.
Violet was biting her lip like she was suppressing an entire Broadway number.
Fiona looked like she was witnessing the season finale of her favorite TV show.
And I… well, I was silently melting into an anxious puddle inside my boots.
Finally, Carson dipped his chin and turned toward the hallway.
The second he disappeared from view, both of my sisters sprang into action like coiled snakes freed from a basket.
“Oh. My.Lord.” Fiona slapped both palms on the counter. “Sienna, that man just looked at you like you were a sunrise.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I said weakly, gripping my muffin as if it were a flotation device.
“It means he likes you,” Violet sang. “It means he very much likes you.”
“No,” I insisted. “No, he absolutely does not. He’s just… polite.”
Fiona held up a finger. “He brought you coffee this morning.”
“People bring coffee.”
“He brought it into the woods at dawn,” she countered. “Into the cold. Into the snowy wilderness. He trekked into a potential bear zone with a hot beverage for you.”
I glared. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Sienna.” Violet leaned in. “You nearly combusted when he looked at you.”
“I did not.”
Fiona snorted. “Girl. You pinged between five emotional states in eight seconds. We watched it.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Can you both stop analyzing me like I’m a nervous squirrel?”
“Youarea nervous squirrel,” Fiona said.
