“And why did I have to close my eyes?”
“Um, because I was… there was a wardrobe malfunction, okay?”
He laughed so hardI reached out and smacked his arm.
He smirked. “But while I had my eyes closed, you came up to me. What was that about?”
“I didn’t come up to you.” I turned away from him and peered in one of the canvas bags. He had a bocce ball set inside. That couldn’t have been fun to hold for five minutes at my door.
“I could feel you breathing on me, Lauren.”
“I was spying in your bags.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Okay, what did you think I was doing?” I crossed my arms, hoping to look mature and calm, and not like he was totally on to something.
“Well, I didn’t find a ‘kick me’ sign on my back. And I checked for a marker mustache. Did you drop itch powder down my back that hasn’t kicked in yet?”
“Hold on, I’m taking notes.” I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and began typing in his suggestions. I was doing it as a joke. Mostly.
“Come on, Lauren.”
I looked up from my phone. “Let me get this straight. You think I tripped in my bathrobe on purpose? All so I could prank you while your eyes were closed?”
“You were in your bathrobe?”
I pressed my palm into my forehead. “This conversation is officially over, dude. Now what are we doing in my kitchen?”
“Making omelets.” After going through my lower cupboards, he found a frying pan and set it on the stove. “Unless you have other breakfast ideas. I’m okay with whatever you want to eat.”
“You had me at omelets.” I got out the salt and pepper for him and pulled the butter and milk out of the fridge. “What else do you need?”
He rummaged around in our fridge and pulled out various things I had never considered putting in eggs before and chopped them up small before mixing them into the bowl. I was preparing myself for the worst, but the final product was amazing. I almost licked my plate.
I looked up and caught him staring at me, and was suddenly self-conscious about my damp hair and lack of makeup. “I’m gonna go get ready for the day.”
I retreated to my room and got to work blow drying my hair before putting in a little bit of curl. Then I started on my makeup.
Clay came in and sat on the edge of my bed, watching. He picked up my hairbrush and twirled it in his hands. “Are you ready to have a real conversation?”
I met his eyes in my mirror. “What do you mean?”
“I thought you might need some time to process after last night. I know I did.”
He was being so serious, which was so unlike him. His serious face was even more handsome than his mischievous one.
“I like you, Lauren.”
I bit my lip to hold back a smile. “I like you, too.”
It felt too much like middle school, where even that little admission was enough to send both of us off to consult with our friends about what the next move was. Exchanging friendship bracelets perhaps? Sitting by each other on the bus?
“Are you laughing at me?” He reached out and lightly poked my side. “I like you. We can say that now, right?”
“Yeah, we can say it.”
“Can I say I want to spend as much time with you as possible? Because I do.”
