I want to be her when I grow up.
We can talk more about that another time. Just tell Liam to hurry please.
I hit send, then glance up at the house like it might suddenly become more cooperative.
“Ten minutes,” I say to myself, adjusting the pizza box on my lap. “You can survive ten minutes…probably.”
I sit on the step, tucking my feet under me like that’s somehow going to make this whole situation feel less exposed. The pizza box is warm against my thighs, the smell both comforting and mildly offensive considering I can’t actually get inside to eat it.
“Ten minutes,” I repeat, checking the street for what has to be the fifth time. “Easy. Totally fine. We’re thriving.”
A breeze kicks up again and I hunch my shoulders, clutching the front of my towel like it might suddenly decide to betray me.
I tap my fingers against the box, my gaze drifting back to the house, mentally mapping out the second-floor window. It’sdoable. We only need to boost one of us up to the roof and it should be a breeze from there.
I spend a few more minutes tracing the creases in the wood flooring of the porch. It’s well-worn with deep groves, the kind of aging that only comes from years of being exposed to the elements.
Somewhere down the street, a car horn honks. Once. Short. Familiar. Then it does it again, a burst of two or three quick hits that make me giggle. I look up, knowing who it is before I even see the car.
“Liam,” I say, pushing to my feet, relief kicking in properly now.
The car turns the corner and starts toward the house, and I lift a hand, pizza balanced in the other, already halfway into an apologetic wave.
“I’m an idiot!” I call out, laughing at myself as I step off the porch still clutching my towel.
The car rolls closer, slowing as it moves down the street. That’s when I notice there’s someone else in the passenger seat. My smile falters.
“Oh no…” I breathe.
The car pulls up fully now, engine idling as the passenger door opens first. Ty steps out of the car like this is a completely normal Saturday evening and not the exact moment I am standing in my front yard, in a towel, barefoot, holding a pizza like it’s evidence of poor life choices.
Every single thought in my brain screeches to a halt.
“No,” I say under my breath, horrified. “No, no, no.”
Because Liam? Liam is fine. Liam has seen me at my worst. I’ve had the flu in front of Liam and his sister. I broke my arm one summer and Liam had to help me wash my hair. I can handle being a mess in front of Liam. But in front of Ty?
I catch the reaction on Ty’s face as he takes me in. His eyes widen, and I’m pretty sure if his jaw could hit the sidewalk, it would.
Fantastic. Exactly how I wanted tonight to go.
“Hi,” I say, because apparently, I’ve lost all higher-functioning thought and this is what we’re working with now. I lift the pizza a fraction like it explains everything. “I can explain.”
Liam shuts the driver’s door, already grinning. “I don’t think you can.”
“I locked myself out,” I say quickly, pointing at the house like it’s betrayed me personally. “I went to get my pizza, and the door shut, and now we’re here.”
“In a towel,” Liam adds helpfully.
“Yes, Liam. Thank you for that observation.”
Ty still hasn’t said anything, which is somehow worse.
I glance at him, immediately wishing I hadn’t. Because now he’s looking at me properly. It’s as if he’s trying to take in every detail at once, which is really not ideal when those details include bare legs, damp hair, and the fact that I am one poorly timed breeze away from a public incident.
“Hi,” he says finally, voice a little rough around the edges.
Oh. That does something entirely unhelpful to my stomach.
