I snort. “I’m discovering this.”
“See, we’re getting somewhere already.”
I yank the blanket higher on my chest like armor. I don’t know if I can trust myself if he flashes that soft, crooked grin. Especially not when he looks so comfortable on my couch, so at home in the quiet.
Jack raises his soda to his lips, then frowns when he realizes it’s empty. He sets it on the hand-painted coaster on the small table beside him, and I try not to notice how careful he is with it.
“That’s against the rules.”
I swear my heart flutters. “Right.” I lift my chin, shimmying against the pillow beside me. I need something solid to hold me up right now. “And this isn’t a date?”
“Nope.”
I don’t believe him, but the way the corner of his mouth tips up is entirely too distracting. With a sigh, I twirl a piece of hair around my finger. “Okay, then what do we need to figure out?” I say. “Everyone knows how we met.”
“But what happened on our first date?”
“Why does anyone need to know?”
“They don’t. It might just come up. Jesus, Sinclair, just tell me your idea of a perfect date.”
A frustrated laugh bubbles out of me. Fine. I’ll play. “One time, a guy took me to Chili’s, then brought me to seeLord of the Ringsand recited every line.” I pause, waiting for his laugh, but when it doesn’t come, I continue, “It was the extended cut.”
“That sounds… lonely.”
A soft gasp catches on my lips. I was half expecting a joke or those dimples or something so unserious that I would forget just how much that sucked. And, if I’m being honest, most of mydating life. But giving that truth over to Jack right now feels like too much.
“I’ll think about my perfect date,” I whisper.
“And you’ll let me know?”
“Make something up, something easy to believe. Like you took me to that place you always take your dates to in the South End.”
“I don’t always?—”
“Jack, it’s late. Don’t mess with me.”
Something between a laugh and a scoff rumbles in his chest. “It’s a good spot to be seen.”
All those perfectly polished parts of him melt away at night, in some magic trick I don’t want to think about. Just like the night at the hospital.
“And you like to be seen?”
Jack shifts over the couch cushion, drumming his fingers on the top of his knee. He studies me, opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, then shuts it and shrugs instead.
I should tell him I want to be seen too. That it feels good, but I don’t. That painful knot sits at the base of my throat instead. I snatch up the clicker and turn on the TV before I can do something mortifying like ask “Why?”
“Merritt Point has a Halloween party in two weeks,” I say. “We can go together for our first public date.” The words tumble out too fast, and I rush to fill the space before he can read too much into them. “I’m going to watch a movie now. You can stay and watch too if you want.”
Oh god, why did I say it like that? So desperate and?—
“Sure, I can stay.”
Wait, what?
“You don’t want me to stay, Izzy?”
“I didn’t think… I was going to watchSleepless in Seattle. Figured you were probably busy or something.”
