Her smile drops when she catches me frowning. “Which maybe I shouldn’t have because…oh my gosh, were you having a good time and I ruined it?” She slaps her forehead. “I didn’t even think of that. I’m sorry. Let’s go back and—”
I slide an arm around Kenzie’s waist when she takes a step backward, unintentionally using too much force to keep her from striding away. Her hands come up as her chest bumps into mine, her eyes widening.
“You didn’t ruin anything. I was about to give her a polite refusal.”
“Oh.” She blows out a relieved breath.
“I’m mad at you about one thing, though,” I say, jaw tightening.
“What?”
Kenzie’s fingers tense on my torso, and it’s almost distracting enough to make me forget what I was going to say.
Almost.
“For talking down to yourself. You’re not boring. And there’s nothing wrong with being quiet. Because…” I pause when I realize I’m about to be too honest but then decide to go for it anyway. “I enjoy our quiet moments together.”
Noticing the tension in her body, I let Kenzie go, infusing jokey warmth into my voice. “Or when you’re throwing me a curveball by calling me Norbert. You know me.” I lift my shoulders in a playful shrug. “I’m up for anything.”
When Kenzie just stares, I lightly punch her in the shoulder—like I would with a teammate. “Let’s check out the beach before we head home.”
My eyes squeeze shut with regret the second I turn toward the ocean. I need to rein it in. I’m crossing lines that clearly shouldn’t be crossed. Kenzie is essentially stranded with me in this small town, and I need to not make things awkward by admitting feelings that I’ve managed to keep buried until now.
“You coming?”
I toss the lighthearted question over my shoulder because that’s what easygoing Trevor would do. Smile and go with theflow. Life is full of disappointments. It’s best not to let them get the better of you.
Relief shoots through my veins when I hear Kenzie’s footsteps behind me, but I quickly school my features. I just need to keep my emotions in check for a few more hours.
And then, for the rest of my life.
Chapter 10
Kenzie
We cross the sole two-lane road that runs the length of Wilks Beach onto a short residential street, ending in a beach access walkway. Cozy seaside cottages line the street, each more adorable than the last. I should be reveling in the small-town cuteness all around me. The blue house beside us has a flag that saysShellabrate Good Timeswith crabs dancing through raining confetti. It’s absolutely delightful, but all I can focus on is the staticky sensation buzzing at the base of my skull.
It’s almost impossible to get my bearings after being tugged to Trevor’s firm chest. Because one: how did I not notice how muscled he is? My fingers definitely felt ab definition through the surprisingly thin fabric of his hoodie. And two: what did he mean by ‘I enjoy our quiet momentstogether’?
Is he talking about when he’s watching his sports recaps in the living room, and I sit on the other side of the couch with my laptop? Or the times we both stumble into the kitchen for lunch before he heads off to home games, politely stepping around each other to make sandwiches? Or when I’m working in the garden, and he’s in the adjacent grassy area, going through his stretching routine?
I shake my head. Trevor must mean it in a more literal sense. He likes that I’m quiet because that makes me a good roommate. It’d be annoying if I had a lot of people over, blasted music at all hours, or slammed doors when I got up before him. Yeah, that’s it. He likes that I’m considerate. After all, I always grind my coffee beans the night before, don’t wear shoes in the house, and I video call my parents at a reasonable volume.
Come to think of it, I’m anexcellentroommate. I never leave dishes in the sink—the last six days notwithstanding. I pay my rent on time. I replenish the hazelnut creamer if I use it all before Trevor’s grocery delivery service brings us more.
I nod to myself, feeling less adrift as Trevor finishes his lunch and tosses his to-go box in the trash can beside the beach posting. A green flag dances in the slight sea breeze, welcoming beachgoers. The ocean looks relatively calm as we walk through the dunes, but my stomach does an involuntary flip seeing the waves.
Maybe Trevor is right about driving home.
“So what’s on this list of yours?” Trevor asks before tugging off his hoodie.
His white t-shirt pulls up a few inches. When I catch a glimpse of the distinct muscular groove by his hip, heat blooms over my collarbones. Averting my gaze toward the ocean, I count the pelicans soaring over the waves. Once I reach eight, I start multiplying two-digit numbers to keep my mind occupied.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
I glance at my roommate, keeping my eyessecurelyon his face. “Oh no. I don’t mind.”
My wayward gaze flows to where Trevor’s short sleeve is bunched, the cuff turned up. I have the oddest impulse to fix it and then slide my fingertips down his toned forearm. My eyes drop to Trevor’s hand making the hoodie look like a scrap of fabric.
