Or worse, if she’s into it.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell whoever is listening, making my decision after my body has already started walking towards her. I feel like I’m walking unnaturally fast, but also like everything is in slow motion, because it takes forever. He notices me first, but dismisses me and turns back to Savannah, but that moment of inattention is all it takes for her to look over and find me, her eyes locking on mine with so much uncertainty my chest cracks.
As I get closer, I realize I have no idea what to say, because my brain has gone all caveman, and I know better than to stake my claim if I’m not going to back it up.
“Hey,” is what I settle on.
“Hey,” she responds.
“I was just coming over to see if you guys wanted to join us.”
It’s a complete lie. The last thing I want to do is force Savannah into a situation where she has to lie or come clean before she wants to.
“Nah, we’re good.” Her new friend completely dismisses me.
“My food should be out in a minute,” Savannah adds.
“Perfect, I was just leaving,” I say.
Our eyes are still locked, which should be awkward, but I understand what people mean when they say someone’s eyes are smiling. It’s like they’re brighter and sparkling and the more ridiculous I make myself, the more she enjoys it.
“We were going to have—” The guy starts.
“No, you weren’t. You were leaving.” I can’t bring myself to look at him, which I honestly think is what makes him finally give up, though he’s sulking when he walks away.
“That was rude.”
“He wasn’t taking a hint.”
“Maybe I…” she says, but I raise an eyebrow, and she gives up on even trying to pretend she was into it. “Your friends are waiting,” she says instead.
“My best friend is leaving.”
“Team bonding,” Savannah reminds me, but she’s grinning from ear to ear as she gets up and thanks the waitress who hands her a takeout container.
“It’s not just the team anymore, and this is kinder than if they force me to karaoke with them.”
“Because you can’t sing? Or don’t want to listen?”
“Both.” I sigh, but I wouldn’t mind listening to her. I wonder what song she would choose.
“Kind of makes me want to stay and watch.”
“What if I promise to sing for you if we leave right now and you pretend my car is on fire if anyone asks.”
“A song of my choice?” She looks excited.
“Does it matter?”
I’m teasing, but she goes serious.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Come on.” I put my hand on her lower back to lead her out the sports bar, waiting until we’re almost at the parking lot to press her into the brick building and kiss her like I haven’t touched her in months instead of days.
She swallows when I pull away, looking at me completely flustered, but also confused.
“What was that for?”
