She huffs out a breath, something caught between a laugh and a protest. “Do you mean when I nudged your elbow?”
“No.” I shake my head slightly. “A few minutes ago. Before that.”
She slows just enough that I notice.
“Before…what?”
I hesitate. Because we’re at the part where I either let it go or say the thing exactly how I experienced it.
And those don’t always land the same way.
“I thought—” I stop, recalibrating, trying to line it up right. “When that guy walked up. I thought we were about to…” I glance at her, then back to the street. “Have a moment.”
There’s a beat as my words hit their mark.
“Oh.” She sounds surprised, so I risk another look at her. She’s smiling now, but it’s different. Not deflecting, at least not entirely. “You thought that?”
“Yes.” I say, without hesitation and her smile shifts, something warmer sneaking in. A little more aware.
“I mean,” she says, drawing it out slightly, “we were sitting kind of close.”
“We were,” I agree.
“And you were looking at me like—” She stops and I wait because I want to know what she is going to say.
She presses her lips together, like she’s deciding whether to finish the thought or not.
“Like you were thinking something,” she settles on.
I nod once. “I was.”
Her brows lift slightly. “Okay, well, that’s…very direct.”
“I don’t see the point in pretending otherwise.”
She lets out a small laugh at that, shaking her head. “No, I’m starting to pick up on that.”
We walk a few more steps, slower now. I can’t be the only one who is more aware of her presence beside me.
“So,” she says, glancing at me again as if daring, “what kind of moment did you think we were about to have?”
There’s something in her tone now. Light. Curious. Not dismissing what I said, but definitely testing it.
I consider that for a second, then decide not to overcomplicate it.
“The kind where you won’t say nothing happened.”
She exhales, a soft, surprised sound, and looks away for a second like she needs to regroup.
“That’s—” she starts, then stops, laughing quietly to herself. “Okay, that’s very exact.”
I don’t say anything, I just let it sit. It’s kind of endearing that I’m watching her process it in real time.
She glances back at me, a little more open now.
“For the record,” she says, voice lighter again, “I didn’t exactly hate that moment.”
I could stop us right here. Make a joke. Change the subject. Keep this exactly where it’s been until the ice cream—easy, low-stakes, nothing to think about later. Just a guy hanging out with a cool chick who happened to have kissed him out of the blue.
