He’s laughing atme.
“Did you just say you think I’m dating Ellie?”
Doubt creeps in. “Why are you acting so insane?” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him.
“I’macting insane? You’re the one accusing me of having a girlfriend I don’t have.” In an instant, he stops laughing. “Wait, did she say we are dating?”
I hesitate. Did she?
“She didn’t say it in so many words, but we walk together during our lunch break now, and um... I’ve seen you bring her smoothies?—”
“You think I bring her smoothies because we’re dating?” He lifts one eyebrow, and I find even that sexy. Gosh, I have issues.
“I’ve seen you talking with her. Laughing.”
“Delaney, that doesn’t mean anything. She’s not my girl.” His expression grows serious.
“She’s been in your house. When we walked by it, she told me how nice it is inside. Why has she been in your house, then?” It comes out as an accusation.
“Because I host an open house every year during Christmas and invite all our employees. Delaney, please focus for a second. Did Ellie say I was her boyfriend?”
I hesitate. “No. I guess not directly.”
“Did she imply itindirectly?” He leans closer to me.
I don’t answer. I’m doubting myself now.
“Delaney,” he says softly. “Ellie is not my girlfriend. Nor would I ever want her to be. She went to school with Holden and Hayden. When you’ve seen me laughing with her, it’s probably because we’re figuring out ways to mess with Holden. She’s got some pretty hilarious pranks.”
Oh.
“What about the smoothies?” I whisper.
“Has she told you anything else about her personal life?” he asks.
“I’m not telling you anything she hasn’t told you herself.” I unfold my arms and rest my upper body against the table.
“Okay. But you’ll notice I only bring her the smoothies on Thursdays. Not every Thursday.”
He studies me, patiently watching my reaction. Realization dawns. Oh, yeah, I’m seeing it now.
“What do you think that means, Delaney?” His words aren’t teasing, but sweet.
“You’re bringing her kale smoothies… after herappointments?”
“I can’t confirm or deny that. But I can tell you, there’s nootherreason I’d do it.” He grins. “Have you also noticed one pops up onyourdesk on those days, along with a macadamia cookie. The kind you fawned over when Henry brought them in?”
“Oh shit. I thought Holden was doing that. I’ve been thanking him for weeks...”
His mouth falls open, and he throws his head back. “That jerk. Taking credit for my smoothie moves.”
Now I laugh, and he smiles in response.
“Can we call a truce?” he asks.
“No, because there’s no need for one. A truce implies war or fighting. That’s not what we’re doing here, Harrison.”
He inches closer. “I don’t know what I did wrong that first night. I don’t know why you’ve run from me—twice. But something tells me I need to keep chasing you.” His voice is rough, his words earnest.
