My body can’t make up its mind. It runs cold at the realization of what she’s implying, but burns hotter with the blush creeping up my neck.
“Who are we talking about, exactly?”
She smirks, green eyes sparkling with humor. There’s no doubt she’s Locke’s sister.
“You know who I’m talking about.” Her hand reaches for the chair next to mine, nudging it enough to make a sound. No one has pulled their chairs out since she’s arrived, and not a word is being spoken around the table.
Billie knocks her elbow against mine and giggles. “Locke pretends like he has that quiet, mysterious thing going on, but he doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body. Like, the first time you guys watched movies together, he went on and on about-”
“That’s my seat.”
Once Locke’s voice cuts through, and his frame is towering over us, it’s almost impossible to think we didn’t notice him.
His eyes are pointed down at Billie, stern and unamused behind his glasses. “You sit at the end of the table.”
Her shimmery nail polish catches the light when her hands go up. “Of course. Should’ve known. My bad.”
There’s thirty seconds of shuffling around before people start taking their seats. Right as I settle in my own spot, a hand appears in front of me. Arm toned, veins snaking under theexpensive silver watch. I’m so focused on his wrist, I almost miss the bucket of popcorn placed on the table.
I stare up at Locke, but he’s busy pulling out my chair to make eye contact.
“For me?”
“Only you.” Those words reach between us again, and I gulp. He does, too. “Who likes popcorn that much, I mean. I bought it for you.”
It’s the first time tonight he holds eye contact for more than three seconds. It’s too charged for a group gathering at a board game café, and too long for a couple of roommates, but I can’t stop myself.
His eyes are always so fucking soft.
“No Dr. Pepper for me?”
Billie calls from behind Locke’s back. Everyone has taken their seats, settled at the table and ready to play a game like we should be. Not staring into each other’s eyes over popcorn.
Liliana has a hand over her mouth again. I’m never getting out of this.
“They didn’t have Dr. Pepper.”
I take my seat, feeling overwhelmed by the gesture Locke decided to make—in public, in front of our friends—and bite my lip.
He barely gets out of an argument over snack choices with Billie when he sits. Chair closer to mine than I remember it being earlier.
“So,” my best friend starts. “We need to decide on a game and then I’ll go around getting drink orders for everyone. Are there any requests for what we should play first?”
I hear the question, but it goes one ear and out the other. I can’t focus when earl grey is taking over my subconscious and the café’s logo is so distracting on the screen.
I feel a foot kick mine. It doesn’t come from across the table, and is gentler than Lil’s.
To my right, Locke clears his throat and asks, “What about Rummikub?”
sixteen
LOCKE
Everything is going well.Too well. So much better than I imagined it could’ve. To the point where I’m beginning to get a little scared, if I’m honest.
There’s been an undeniable layer of anxiety in my chest since the night Rosie came home crying. For multiple reasons. Because I wanted to be there for her, and I’m scared my actions caused more harm than good.
She seemed to be in better spirits after we talked, though. Her smile was brighter, and her mood seemed to lift once we took our familiar places on the couch and dedicated the night to movies she loved. But the memories of our conversation beforehand kept me wondering. Did I do what I needed to make her feel better?
