I bite my lip. “It’s kind of cute, if you ask me.”
Her smile dims and her gaze sharpens as if her inner stubborn streak is getting up for one last swing. “But on Taco Tuesday, when you accused me of cheating at trivia and looked at me like I was the most infuriating person you’d ever met?—”
I shake my head. “No, I was thinking, ‘This woman isn’t afraid to call me on my garbage.’”
A sniffly laugh escapes her. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not. You were wearing a blue sweater, your hair was half up and half down, and you were so mad at me that your whole face was red. And I thought, ‘I am in so much trouble.’”
“I was not that mad?—”
“You threw a chip at me.”
“You deserved it.”
“I did.” I brush my thumb across her cheek, catching a tear that’s escaped. Okay, here goes. I’m coming clean about the dumb bet. “But there’s something I need to?—”
The front door crashes open.
Much like in the hall when Pauline interrupted, we jump apart as Austin walks in, takes one look at us, and grins like he’s just won, well, a bet. My thoughts snag. Hold on. Did the guys trick me? Did they mastermind this whole thing to push Winnie and me together? But does it matter? I agreed to it and that could hurt Winnie. It’s a breach of trust.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account. This is just getting good.”
I consider the various ways I could exact revenge for the interruption, including but not limited to sentencing him to a lifetime of cleaning the truck with a toothbrush, rewatching old training videos and writing essays, or exiling him from the common room couch.
“Forgot my jacket.” He saunters over to the coat rack, moving at half his normal speed. “But this is much better than a jacket. This is quality entertainment.”
Winnie’s face matches Oreo’s collar. She lowers to her feet and puts distance between us that feels like miles.
“Austin,” I growl.
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He grabs his jacket, but pauses at the door. “Oh, by the way, Mav? The guys want to know if you’re bringing Winnie to poker night tomorrow.”
“Get. Out.”
“That’s a yes, then. Great! I’ll save her a seat.” He winks at Winnie. “See you tomorrow, Winnie. Bring your piggy bank. Should be fun. We can all talk about?—”
“Out!”
Austin leaves, still grinning like the menace he is.
The silence he leaves behind now that we’re alone again is like a siren in my ears.
29
PATTON
Winnie studiesthe floor or her furry, winter boots.
“I’m sorry. He?—”
“He fancies himself James Bond?” The way her voice gradually fades as she hugs her arms around herself makes me want simultaneously to fix her every worry and cover her in bubble wrap to shield her from the difficulties in life.
“What was I saying before—?” I ask, trying to recover the moment.
“You were about to tell me something.” Her gaze meets mine, searching.
The words stick in my throat. Telling her the truth about the stupid bet should be simple. But standing here, seeing the trust in her eyes, knowing I’m about to reveal something that might break it, chases the words away.
