I drape an arm around the back of her chair, leaning in. I’d take a Friday night with the marinating smell of raw meat over anything if it meant doing it with her.
“Bingo!”
“Bullshit!”
Chloe’s jaw drops as we look over to the foul-mouthed Rosie. Everyone is talking over each other in low, drawn-outvoices. Chloe covers her laugh with her hand, and I sit forward with a smile.
“Oh, I’m never missing a Bingo night.”
One round later, players are whipping and making deals to trade cards, but it’s William who catches my eye when he stands from his seat and makes his way back to mine and Chloe’s table.
“How’s it going, William?” Chloe asks.
He hands his Bingo card to Chloe, dropping his marker in the basket in front of her. “Halfway through the last game, I remembered that I prefer my steaks cooked for me. Figured I’ll see if I can make an escape to a restaurant sometime next week and get back to my book now.”
Creekside isn’t a prison. Everyone is allowed to come and go as they please, so long as they can do it themselves or someone else can take them. William can do one of those things, the other just requires an invitation.
Chloe stands and wraps him in a hug, and when he hesitantly embraces her, I’m reminded that the people here are all he has left.
“Hey, Willie!” I call when he turns toward the door. “I’ve got an away game and a packed schedule next week, but the week after, let’s go out. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good steak.”
He pauses with his hand on the door frame before a smile crosses his face and he nods. “Sounds good, kid. I’ll hold you to it.”
I run my thumb along the edge of the table, feeling Chloe’s growing smile as she leans in closer to me.
“That was very nice of you.” There’s no surprise in her voice. She says it like she’s trying to remind me of something I’ve forgotten, and maybe I have. I don’t know the right way to respond, or if there even is one, but it doesn't feel like a big deal. So, I give her a small smile and a nod, hoping we’ll move on.
“I mean it,” she continues. “Why do you let people think anything different of you, Mav? You’re such a good guy.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”
“Have you?” She twists in her chair so her knees are pointing at me, and I turn to mirror her.
“Well, twice.”
She huffs a laugh, and before I can think better of it, I place my hands on her knees.
“Well, if you’ve heard it twice now, then it must be true.”
Her laugh fades, and suddenly I’m hyperaware of her warmth beneath my palms. My brain knows I should pull my hands away and put some space between us. Instead, I leave them and ask, “You’re coming to the house tomorrow, right?”
Her eyes instantly light up before she remembers herself and bites down on whatever excitement was trying to bubble.
“It’s Silas’s birthday party,” I add, unsure if that’s helping to sell my case.
“I thought you didn’t do parties at the house during the season?” She leans in close enough now that her knees press firmly into my hands, and my grip tightens without thinking. I shouldn’t be this turned out in a room full of beef and the elderly.
“It’s the one exception to the rule.”
“You seem to have a lot of exceptions.”
I wonder how she would react if she knew she’s become my exception to everything, too. I’ve been flirting with Chloe since the day I met her. Pretending to be her boyfriend hasn’t changed anything. Except now, when I flirt with her, it’s because I can’t stop myself. Every touch feels like stepping over a line even when I’m standing still.
This wasn’t supposed to be anything more than helping her get another guy to notice her. I could live with catching feelings. Hell, I think subconsciously I’d already made peace with that, but watching the way her face lights up feels dangerous. If Chloe starts feeling something real it's only amatter of time before she realizes she wants something else. Someone else.
The best thing I can do—the only thing I can do is help her get what she really wants. Even if it destroys me in the process.
I lean back, forcing my hands away from her legs, tucking them across my chest. I clear my throat, sitting back in my chair. “It’s an open invitation,” I say, keeping my voice even. “So, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nathan showed up.”
