The girls? Me? Janice?
Our hug. My cheeks buzzed. Was it really that memorable compared to all his friends’ affections?
I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t smile. One would hope he wouldn’t need to get drunk over heartache again.
I doubted he’d cash in on it.
Tonight? My pulse surged. Where? Why? I hadn’t washed my hair. I was in sweatpants. No bra. I’d need a fucking bra for this.
My thoughts cooled into razor-sharp focus. All I wanted was a normal day too. No messages. No creeps. No panic attacks.
Instead, the days blurred together in a haze of dopamine hits from video games and fixing shit. But I did smile at his demonstrations. We could play together.
Oh. Was he hitting on me?
No. That was ridiculous. He was friendly. He saw the good in everyone. Hanging out together could be a new normal.
It wasn’t like we were going to kiss.
I managed to shower and spruce up the house enough for a friendly visit. Security automatically sent a message to my phone when he got to the gate. My visitor was on the way. Great.
I dusted chip crumbs off the couch. The robot-vac would get them.
Cameras in front of the house pinged, as did my phone.
Shit. I forgot it also alerted him. On the live feed, Sal struggled with five-or-so boxes of pizza. No wonder my brother thought I was hosting something.
