“And I’m in my off-season, so I literally have nothing better to do than worry about you,” Clay teases. “So, this boy?—”
“We’re friends,” I say simply, but the last thing Noah and I are is simple. Not if you’re trying to define us, but the past few days with him at the Ivy House were simple, comfortable…perfect.
“You’re blushing,” Clay calls me on it. “If you were a cartoon, your eyes would be hearts.”
“He’s nice. I like him as?—”
“You like him like him,” Dallas cuts me off from a lie before turning to Clay. “What was his name again?”
“Pretty sure I never mentioned it.” I shrug, nonchalant, yet very aware that Parker knows Noah. If he’s holding out, I owe him so much food.
“I’ll text Parker.”
Shit.
“So you can what? Show up at school and tell him to be nice to me?” I try to make it sound as ridiculous as possible, but neither of them would have any qualms about doing just that. Or sending Parker.
I’m expecting an immature response that says as much, but instead Dallas sighs and asks, “Does he know about…us?” He points at himself and Clay.
I was justified and indignant a minute ago, but the fight leaves me.
“Not yet,” I admit.
“You embarrassed of us?” Clay is teasing, but there’s also a hint of hurt he isn’t great at hiding.
“I’m happy now,” I tell them, my hand subconsciously going to my chest, right over my heart, because that’s where it’s coming from. “Like really happy. But the second I tell him…” It’s another layer of insecurity I have to fight.
Clay nods like he understands, but then he delivers an emotional blow that has no right to hit that hard.
“There’s a difference between fielding the ones who only want to use you to get to us, and the ones you’re too afraid to let in.”
It hurts because it’s true. That I’m terrified of letting Noah all the way in, because the closer he gets, the more it’ll hurt when he’s gone. But this isn’t my lack of confidence making up scenarios. I have the emotional scars to prove it.
“Like Ethan?” I remind him.
I feel bad when he flinches, but there’s a reason I’m guarded.
“He was a jerk,” he says vehemently, which I know is so I don’t blame myself.
“He wasn’t,” I argue. “He was just a summer fling who stuck around too long because you entered the equation.”
Clay looks guilty, which was not my intention, but Dallas doesn’t back down.
“So that’s your plan? We never meet another person who’s important to you?”
It’s his turn to think I’m ridiculous, and he’s right, that would never work long term. But Noah and I…
I shake it off, not wanting to go there.
“Is that an option?” I tease instead. My brothers dislike arguing as much as I do, so they roll their eyes and give half-hearted chuckles.
“It’s new, okay? I was helping with his sister, he was teaching me hockey, then he offered to show me how to skate, and…” I want them to understand how delicate it all feels right now. How fragile. “We’re friends now and I really enjoy spending time with him, but he’s busy and I’m socially awkward…”
“So you don’t want a ticket for him on Sunday?” Dallas thinks he has me, which he probably would, because it’s not like I don’t want to see Noah.
“He’ll be in Florida.” I stop myself from adding a ‘Ha!’ at the end, but my smug look definitely conveys it.
“And if he wasn’t?”
