His eyes flickered with interest and he smiled wide. And despite herself, Ginny felt her own smile mirror Ryan’s.
“I’d like to see that,” Ryan said. “It’s next-level cute. That’s what my grandma would’ve calledassweet as pe-can pie. So, I guess I can see the difference…” He threw the apple in the trash by the door, sinking it easily, and…was he leaning closer?
“How…” his green eyes bore into hers, “should I describe your dress, Ginny?”
She cleared her throat and brushed her own hands off, throwing all sense of tidiness out the window. “Umm… you could call it—”
“Lovely?” he interrupted. “Maybe, appealing? Or…” he lowered his voice, eyes still staring into hers. Not once looking at the dress in question. Who even cared about this dress? Not Ginny.
“How ‘bout captivating…?”
They sat, eye to eye, both leaningjustbarely forward towards each other in a quiet stare down. Ginny wondered what the protocol was on kissin’ the living daylights out of the physicaleducation coach in the guidance counselor’s office. Questionable at best, but she thought she might like to ask for forgiveness rather than permission in this instance.
Sadie’s mama would be so proud.
Ryan swallowed. Ginny zeroed in on the movement. Following the trail from his neck. And jaw. And then, lips. Lips he ran his teeth over…
“Coach Hood. You’re needed in the gym. Coach Hood to the gym,” a highly irritating voice announced over the school’s loud speaker.
Ryan jumped up, knocking over his water bottle and his lunch bag. He paced the room twice and ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a little messy and frazzled. Just how Ginny imagined it would have looked ifshehad run her fingers through it.
“I… uh… I have to—” Ryan motioned with his thumb over his shoulder to the door.
“Yeah. Um. Okay. Of course.” Ginny stood and Ryan jumped back like his feet had suddenly caught on fire.
“You, umm…” he glanced at his lunch bag as if afraid to reach out and grab it.
Ginny took pity on him and picked up the bag, water bottle, and scooped his trash into her other hand. “Thanks for lunch, Ry. I’ll see you at practice, right?”
“Right. Practice. Yes. I will be there. I’m the coach.”
She handed over the bag and didn’t miss the way Ryan carefully avoided any skin to skin contact between the exchange. “Wait. Before you go… are you wearin’ socks today?”
He rolled his eyes but pulled up a pant leg to reveal yellow socks with mustached footballs printed across.”
“I love them. They’re… cute,” she bit her lip and wiggled her eyebrows.
“I prefer adorable.”
“As sweet as pe-can pie.” She wondered how long she could keep him in Danger’s office, and she desperately didn’t want their exchange to end with Ryan running away. “And what color was your tootsie-pop today, Coach? You usually have one, right?”
“Coach Hood to the gym. Again, Coach Hood, you’re needed in the gym.”
They both glanced up at the speaker over their heads and then eyes flicked back to one another.
“Oh… I, um…” Ryan quickly dug into the lunch bag and pulled out a container carrying what looked like chocolate chip cookies and carefully put them on the table. An offering that felt much bigger than dessert.
He backed up towards the door, still watching Ginny, but now with a sweet tilt to his lips. “I was craving cookies.”
10
WOULD THAT I
HOZIER
Melody Man,
I’ve thought a lot about your last letter. (And, yes, discussed it with a friend.) I really want to meet. Truly, I do. But I have some nerves about the idea. What if we have this great friendship in letters? A secret camaraderie that’s magical because of the way we found each other, but then… I don’t know. What if the magic doesn’t translate to real life?
