I nodded, not pressing further. Instead, I shifted in my seat, deciding to change the subject. “So... friendship bracelets.”
“It’s cute, okay? I bought the set last year but never got around to actually making them. The maid moved it out here a couple months back.” She started to arrange the beads—some letters, some colors.
“Fine,” I said, settling down beside the coffee table. “I mean, what else are we going to do out here?”
“It’s better than playing Never Have I Ever again.” She caught me off guard with that one. That night, so much had spiraled out of my control.
“That... is true.” I started to select the beads I wanted for my bracelet.
“See? I have good ideas,” she said, smugness creeping into her tone.
“On occasion.”
Chloe held out scissors and the elasticated string. “Can you measure my wrist?”
“Of course,” I said. My fingers brushed against her wrist as I wrapped the clear string around, the delicate skin soft under my fingertips.
She moved suddenly, withdrawing her arm for a second. “Sorry, I just got a shiver.” Her voice breathless.
I froze, the string uncut, my brain scrambling for something casual to say. “Must be a draft,” I offered, glancing toward the window as if the storm outside could explain the sudden shift in the air between us.
Her pink lips. Blue-green eyes that held a depth I could too easily swimin. A tendril of hair that was all too tempting to push behind her ear. Or curl around my finger, see if it held the twist when I let it go.
“Maybe.” Her gaze lingered on mine, as if she knew the truth. A silent acknowledgement of what was unfolding.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat, feeling myself getting sucked in again, as if every look, every word between us carried some unspoken weight I couldn’t quite ignore.
“Here,” I said, holding out the uncut string. “Let me finish.”
She hesitated for a second before holding out her wrist again. Wrapping the elastic around her wrist, I tried my best to avoid skin contact, but it felt unavoidable. Bumping knees, the graze of a steadying hand. I couldn’t tell if it was clumsiness or magnetism.
“So, uh, how many of these do you think we will make? Surely it won’t take too long for the electricity to come back on,” I said as I remeasured the string, making sure I had it right.
“Depends,” she said with a soft laugh. “How many people do you think we like enough to give a bracelet to?”
“Hmm, let’s see,” I teased. “There’s Scottie, Dylan... Calvin, maybe. That’s three.”
“Four if I count you,” she added, her tone casual, almost as if she had caught herself off guard with the comment.
My face turned hot. “Honored to make the short list.”
“You should be.”
With a snip, I cut the piece of string.
“There,” I said, leaning back.
Chloe smiled, taking the measured string from me. “Maybe I should put you on craft duty more often.”
“Careful,” I shot back, “or I’ll start charging for my services.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve overcharged me,” she retorted, her smirk widening, the spark of our usual banter slipping back into place.
I laughed as I sat back down, partially grateful for the space opening up between us.
There was something about Chloe Murphy. She had this way of drawing me in, of making everything around her feel bigger, brighter, more charged. It wasn’t only her confidence, though God knew she had enough of that to spare. It was as if she had learned the right code to disarm me, her own defenses dropping in those fleeting, vulnerable moments that left me wondering if I’d imagined them.
Like now.
