Thorn set a glass of water in front of me without saying a word.
I picked it up and took a long drink, letting the cold hit my throat, my chest, trying to settle something that had gotten… loud.
Ever had liked me.
For years.
And the more I turned it over, the more it did something I hadn’t expected.
It didn’t make me uncomfortable.
Didn’t make me feel guilty.
Didn’t make me want to back off.
It made me… I huffed out a breath, staring down into the glass.
It made me feel good.
Too good.Like I’d been handed something I didn’t even know I’d been missing.
I took another drink, set the glass down, and leaned back slightly on the stool.
Ever had liked me.
And now, now I wanted her.
That made me happy as fuck.
Chapter Fifteen
Ever
By the sixteenth hole, I knew two things for sure.
One, Jesse was way too good at mini golf for a man who claimed he hadn’t played in years.
And two, I still hadn’t felt that big, breathless, lightning-bolt thing I kept telling myself I didn’t need.
Little Scooters buzzed around us with the kind of noisy, cheerful chaos that made it impossible to sit too long in your own head if you didn’t want to.Kids shrieked on the spinning ride near the center of the park, lights blinked in every direction, and the scent of fryer grease and cotton candy hung in the air thick enough to taste.Somewhere off to the left, somebody rang the bell at one of the game booths, and a teenager yelled like he’d just won a new truck instead of a giant stuffed frog.
It was the kind of place that was a little tacky and a little ridiculous and honestly kind of perfect for a date when you didn’t want too much pressure.
Jesse stood a few feet ahead of me with a putter in one hand and his ball lined up in front of the fake little castle guarding the sixteenth hole.The hole itself curved around a tiny blue pond with a waterwheel that squeaked every time it turned.He narrowed his eyes at the shot like he was lining up something serious.
“You know,” I said, leaning on my own putter, “for someone who told me he was rusty, you’re awfully smug for a man who has been beating me all night.”
He glanced over his shoulder at me, one side of his mouth lifting.“Smug?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m not smug,” he said.
I snorted.“That’s exactly what a smug person would say.”
He chuckled low under his breath and looked back at the hole.“Maybe you’re just trying to distract me.”
He tapped the ball and it curved around the pond, missed the tiny castle opening completely, bounced off the plastic rock edging, and rolled right back toward him.
