“Seriously, an entire box set?”
“Yep.”
“Bro, I wonder who donated that? Maybe Mr. Jensen or—oh! I know—”
“—Mrs. Hanover!”
Alex is laughing again. “Hah, yep! It had to have been her,” he cackles, and now I’m smiling, too.
And my nausea is gone. Just like that.
God, I can’t even believe how much better he makes me feel. Even just hearing his voice.
His laugh dies after another few seconds, but he’s still chuckling as he says, “I should head back in. Jenna probably just bowled another strike. She’s kicking my ass. You’re up for ice cream tonight, though, yeah? I should be back before you’re off work.”
“Um, yeah. Ice cream sounds good.” I manage to ignore that part of my heart that’s suddenly really jealous of him and Jenna spending time out together, though I still feel the ache. It’s another reminder that although he’s my best friend, he’s notmine. Maybe I’m not really ignoring it, though. Maybe I’m just lying to myself and pretending more, because there’s a sharp pang in my chest, and even though I fight against the urge, I can’t stop myself. My voice drops to some quiet, soft tone as I close my eyes and say, “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
It’s the fucking truth, anyway, and heismy bestfriend. So it doesn’t have to mean a damn thing, except... I know it does.
He doesn’t respond right away, though I hear him clear his throat with a light cough. And when he does speak, he’s oddly stuttering over his words, and his voice is hesitant. “Y-yeah. Yeah, yeah, me too. Um, I... can’t wait, either.”
My eyes open, and I look out across the lawn to where Caitlin and the kids are all starting to get up. Their lunchtime is over, I guess, and that means mine probably is too. I frown down at my uneaten sandwich, my stomach now a mixed bag of butterflies and uncertainty.
“Cool. See you then,” I say.
“Yeah.”
There’s another awkward pause, and I lower my legs down to the ground. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
I wait for a second before hanging up, and then I drop my chin, wondering what the hell I just fucked up.
Chapter Fourteen
Alex
What...just happened?
I’m standing outside the entrance to the bowling alley in Omaha, staring down at the now-blank screen of my cell phone. My head’s spinning, and there’s a funny tingle in my chest. He called me, which he never does. And then... then he said,“I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
I can hear the words as if he were standing right next to me. And it’s not really the words so much as his tone, soft and with almost some sort of yearning to it. God, I must have imagined it. That’s the only explanation, right?
No, it’s not.
I shake my head, which I realize probably looks strange if there’s anyone watching me. But I don’t really care. And yeah, that’s not the only explanation. There are plenty of other equally possible explanations. Like maybe he justreallymisses his best friend. Orreallywants Harley’s ice cream. Or maybe he’s tired from work.
Or maybe . . .
My brain backfires in the most spectacular way as I imagine him getting home tonight, walking through the door, coming straight over to me. Then he hugs me, his arms wrapping up around my neck, and his lips find mine.
I hear his voice, clear and wanting.“I missed you.”The words are whispered against my mouth, and then he kisses me again, his lips soft and pliant and warm.
It’s almost too real, this scene that’s one hundred percent a product of my overactive imagination. And it’s not the first time I’ve envisioned it. Or something like it. But it might be the first time I’ve wondered if maybe it could actually happen.
Now isnotthe time or place to be letting myself think about these things, though. Not here, outside the bowling alley, when Jenna is inside waiting for me. Besides, the real explanation for Nico’s odd tone is probably just that he’s tired and overwhelmed at work. I’m sure he’s just looking forward to some quiet time with his best friend. And some ice cream. That’s all. It wouldn’t be anything more than that.
I let out a long breath and shove my phone in my pocket, willing my brain to quiet down. Then I turn around and head back inside the bowling alley. Jenna stands up as I reach our lane, pushing one of her long, thick black braids back over her shoulder. She grins at me, looking as smug as ever, a teasing glint in her dark-brown eyes.
