She mouthed the words, “I’m never coming to your house for dinner.”
I nearly said, “I’m never inviting you.” Then I realized my mother might already have done that.
I scooted closer to Madeline to whisper in her ear. “Did my mom invite you to dinner?” I caught a stronger whiff of Madeline’s perfume. Probably something imported. She turned her head and her cheek brushed against my lips. This felt charged too, murmuring things to her while we sat close together in the darkness.
She leaned toward my ear. “It’s only a matter of time. Yourmom told him about the lentil dishes she makes and said he’d like them.”
Madeline pulled away from me long enough to give me a meaningful look, then leaned toward me again. I knew she was only going to whisper something to me, but the tickle of her breath against my skin distracted me. “She also mentioned buckwheat pancakes. Should the two of them really be discussing breakfast foods?”
It was my turn to whisper to Madeline. Dainty diamond studs sat in the soft curve of her earlobes. “Don’t read too much into it. We have breakfast foods for dinner all the time.”
I hadn’t even noticed that the conversation in the front seat had stopped until my mother said, “What are you two whispering about?”
My head jerked up. Mom had twisted in her seat to look at us, and her gaze landed on Madeline’s hand on my leg.
“Just the game,” I said.
PDAs always made me feel uncomfortable, but I couldn’t push Madeline’s hand off my thigh without raising suspicions, so I did the only thing I could think of. I took her hand in mine and set both our hands across her leg.
Wait, was that worse? Now I was not only holding Madeline’s hand, my hand was resting on her thigh.
Mom’s eyes flicked to our hands. “Madeline is becoming a football fan?”
Madeline squeezed my hand. “When Cooper is playing, I am.”
I’d dated half a dozen girls in high school. I couldn’t remember ever holding hands with one in front of my mother. But then, that was the point of all of this, wasn’t it? We wanted ourparents to put the brakes on their relationship because of ours. But still, this felt weird—my mom was staring at us.
“If you’re going to date Cooper,” Mom said, “you’ll have to learn to eat, breathe, and sleep football.”
Madeline gazed at me, smiling, and perhaps only I could see the amusement mixed in with her admiration. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. In fact”—her eyes widened as though an idea had just occurred to her—“to help me be a legit fan, you should give me one of your old football shirts to wear.”
Madeline wanted one of my jerseys for real? I tilted my head. “What is it with you always wanting to take my clothes?”
A flash of disapproval went across her face, one with the wordsget into characteremblazed on it, and then was immediately replaced by a pout. “Please?”
“I mean, sure,” I said. “But anything of mine will be way too big for you.”
“That’s fine,” she cooed. “I’ll use it to sleep in.”
“Oh.” My mother’s voice was high and tight. “That’s so ... so ...” Her gaze went to Mr. Seibold, checking for his opinion.
Madeline didn’t wait for him to speak. “Sweet?” she supplied. I had to give it to her. She was good at this.
Mom let out a choking laugh. “I was thinking along the lines of wildly inappropriate. But sure, it’s sweet too.”
Mr. Seibold said, “You have enough pajamas, Madeline. You don’t need a sleep shirt.”
“Okay.” Madeline pulled another cute pout. She was probably used to wrapping her father around her finger with that look.
My mother turned back to the front seat, but she was less willing to ignore us now. “So what are your plans for this weekend?” she called over her shoulder.
“Maddy and I are grounded,” I said. “I guess that question is for Claire.”
While Claire recited her schedule, Madeline leaned close to whisper to me again. Her lips were practically on my ear. “Give me one of your jerseys anyway. My father will come unglued when he sees me wearing it.”
I whispered back to her, “He told you no. You want to get in trouble?”
Her lips were back by my ear. “He only said I couldn’t sleep in it. He didn’t say I couldn’t wear it with shorts around the house while I go on and on about how it smells like you. Law is all about the technicalities.”
