He threw back his head and laughed.
Oh, god. There it was. My stupid brain had short-circuited. At least I got to see those dimples again.
I rubbed my brow, then hid my burning cheeks against his chest. “Sorry, I don’t have much comparison.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You’re good too, Zero. Dare I say above average?”
Fuck. My chest flared with sparks.
I lightly smacked his arm and giggled.
This was bad.
Knowing my luck, I’d blow up our whole friendship the second he trusted me with it, which sucked, because I really fucking liked him.
But when he smiled at me, it felt like maybe, just maybe, we’d survive it.
19
Above Average
What did crossing this line mean for us? I probably shouldn’t have sat so close to Sal, or rubbed his shoulder, or taken him up on this kissing stuff. My whole body overheated from his touch. Rational thought had melted away along with any sense of self-preservation. I was smiling like an idiot. Blushing, too.
I pulled a pillow to my burning face and flopped onto it, away from Sal. “I can’t believe we just did that,” I muttered, my words muffled.
“I can’t either.” He ran his thumb over the exposed skin on my hip between my shirt and pants.
I shivered through a giggle, then shot upright before I could do anything else embarrassing. No funny business here. My hair floated out of its elastic with static, so I smoothed it down. “I suppose stranger things have happened thanks to sleep-deprivation.”
He screwed up his face. “Do you often make out with people when you’re tired?”
“No, but I accidentally aligned the wheels on a bot wrong, once. It kept circling like a canoe where only one side is paddling.” I snorted. Maybe that was a metaphor for the bad relationship with my department. But I figured it out. I always did.
“If you’re tired, I can–”
“No.” I gripped his sleeve. “If you leave, I’d just stay up gaming. I’d rather talk. About anything.” With him, at least.
He settled closer to me again, stroking my fingers with absent playfulness. “Have you build anything lately?”
“Not really.” Just Janice-land. Anything outside the virtual world could be a little dangerous. I needed time before my next big fuck-up, if it hadn’t already happened. I rolled my lips together and sat on my hands.
He pushed a stray lock behind my ear, his tone casual. “So, why aren’t you sleeping?”
I rubbed that same tingling ear on my shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve been busy. Playing. Crafting. Pretending to have a social life.” Fighting off the existential dread of another day in retail. I yawned.
He scooted to the other end of the couch. “Well, if you’re sure you want me to stay, I guess we can nap or put on that show again, Space Spies 3009.”
“Are you sure? I can fix the drum set.” It just might take a minute.
He fluffed a pillow. “Naw, let’s get comfy. Pizza, pals, and blankets are some of my favorite combinations. This can be a chill thing, you and me, right? I need to chill out more. With a pal.”
‘Pals.’ I clicked the remotes, the word tumbling around in my brain. Were we more than that now that we kissed? Or was it really just a show of prowess and part of a silly bit?
It was an excellent kiss.
Maybe I was overthinking it. He said he wanted to chill, though. Wasn’t that a euphemism?
As much as I trusted Sal, I didn’t want to fall asleep on him. Or sleep with him. Yet. I propped my head up and curled onto the opposite side of the couch, trying not to think about it.
