“Pressured me into?” I snort. “Ty, if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t. I have a perfectly comfortable backseat I could be sleeping in. Living here is temporary. Eventually, this won’t be a concern, and we’ll both move on. I just don’t know what we do until then.”
“Don’t get caught?” He hiccups a laugh at his quip like a dork. “Not sure what the protocol is since it’s not really a normal thing.”
“It isn’t, is it?” I groan. “At least there weren’t too many cameras, right? Since it was trivia. Everyone had to put them away.”
He pinches his face up, nodding. “I didn’t notice any cameras. Not until after, at least.”
I’m not sure I buy his assurance. “I’m so stupid. I should have left as soon as I saw you guys.”
“You’re not stupid.” He leans in, lowering his voice. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”
I shove a handful of popcorn into my mouth to keep me from blabbering only God knows what.
“I had fun with you.”
“Same,” I say around my mouthful.
My phone buzzes across the counter. It’s an alert from a client, and I’m grateful to have the interruption. I assume it’s them replying to the confirmation text I sent earlier tonight. Clicking the message, I wait for it to open. Instead of a confirmation, it’s a cancellation.
“What’s wrong?” Ty asks, taking the bowl from my hand.
“Nothing.”
He eyes me. “You’re frowning.”
I frown harder, trying to make a joke of it. A joke is easier than admitting to myself that I just lost more money. More credibility. I understand cancellations, but I’ve had two this week. And I only have three clients right now. My numbers are dwindling, putting me scarily close to “part-time” with this gig. If I didn’t consider McMurphy’s shop under the umbrella of my plant business, there’s no doubt in my mind that Stacey and the other higher-ups would be booting me to the curb for not holding up my end of the contract. If they only knew.
It’s hard to decide what scares me more: failing at a business that could be nothing more than a current hyperfixation—albeit a long one—or letting go of dancing, the one thing I’ve held dear for as long as I can remember. Now that the two are side by side in my mind, I think I’d rather lose the latter. Shaking my head, I try to push the ridiculous notion aside.
I squint at him, snatching the bowl from his hands and heading to the couch. “Can’t a girl frown every now and then?”
“Not if her name is Avery Joy Hinkley.”
He remembers my full name?
Plucking the yellow and white flower blanket from the sofa, I plop onto a cushion, cradling the popcorn in my lap. “Just because I prefer to smile—unlike some people—doesn’t mean I’m incapable of having a frowny moment.”
“Some people?”
“I said what I said.”
“You better press play before you dig yourself deeper.” Ty frowns, but there’s a grin trying to crack through.
“What if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it?”
I can’t decide if I’m actually trying to push his buttons or if I’m flirting with him. Am I flirting with him? I wrinkle my nose at him and press play.
He snorts, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch. “You did good at trivia tonight, by the way.”
“What? I can’t hear you all the way down there.”
He shakes his head and moves closer, his hand dipping into the bowl of popcorn in my lap. My heartbeat blasts off into medically concerning speeds as his arm brushes mine. I didn’t mean he needed to be right next to me, but I’m not complaining.
“You’re a little ridiculous sometimes, you know.” His gaze is warm as his perfect jaw flexes with each chew.
“So I’ve been told. Actually, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that tonight.”
Ty tilts his head, pulling his attention from the opening credits to focus on me.
