For all the reasons I don’t kiss Asher Hall, his final smile is the reason I know we won’t, in fact, be doing this again sometime.
Because no matter how perfect or pearly or kind, his smile doesn’t have Ro’s dimple.
30
I watch Asher walk the entiredistance to his car, and when he turns to see me in the same spot he left me, I’m glad I stayed. He waves across the lot, and I commit the scene to memory for a new time capsule. Filed away for safekeeping. But now, I file it away with everythingRo.Because even in Ro’s absence, he’s been with me all night.
The memory of his phantom truck, the exact details of his smile, the tone of his voice when—wait.
His voice.
“Kaia?” he says again, more forcefully this time.
This isn’t phantom. When I turn to follow the sound, he’s there. Here. In the flesh.
And he is…snarling.
“Hey,” I say, and even the single syllable feels like a lie. “I thought you were with your parents.”
I scan the parking lot in search of them, and as an excuse to break contact with the daggers shooting from Ro’s narrowed eyes.
I’m still looking anywhere but at him, when he laughs. At least that’s what I’m choosing to call it, though it’s never sounded this sharp before.
“Oh, nice,” he says. “So, youdidget my texts.”
“Shit,” I say, realizing I’ve caught myself up. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been—”
He doesn’t give me a chance to finish the thought, which is fine, since I don’t know what I would’ve said.
“Busy,” he says, nodding toward the empty spot where Asher’s car was moments ago. “Yeah, I see that. Who was that guy?”
“Ro,” I say, braving his eyes again.
This time in addition to his rage, I see hurt when he repeats himself. More slowly, like maybe I’d missed it. “Who was that, Kaia?”
I shrug, because what else can I do? “He’s a friend. A friend of Zola’s, really. That was the last date I agreed to. Forever ago.”
Even to me, the excuse sounds weak, but I hadn’t expected it to also be funny.
Ro pivots, so he’s briefly facing away from me. In one hand, he holds a take-out bag similar to the one I’m carrying. He brings his free hand to his mouth in a fist, stifling his maniacal laughter before his palm squeezes the back of his neck. He releases it and turns back to me once more.
“Fuck,” he says, smiling in a way that makes me want to throw up a little. And cry a lot.
“Ro, it was a hug.”
“Kaia, it was a date. You weren’t answering my texts because you were on a date.”
When he says it like that, so simply, my eyes burn.
“I should’ve been the one you called,” he continues. “I should’ve been the one sitting across the table tonight.”
“Stop,” I say, shaking my head, because if he doesn’t, I’m going to break.
“Stop what? We can’t talk about the fact that you only wanna see me by accident?”
“Ro—”
“I don’t wanna find you on the side of the road anymore. Or save you from some shit guy who shouldn’t have gotten a chance with you in the first place. I don’t wanna run into you on a fucking sidewalk, while your leftovers gets cold,” he says, and the words knock me back. “Let me take you out. A real date, where we both know why we’re there. You and me. On purpose.”
