“Okay.” She looked down at the counter and gave a one-shoulder shrug. Because she didn’t believe me about making it work? Or she didn’t want to try?
Would choosing to leave early be the equivalent of signing a death warrant for our relationship? Maybe I was wrong about her inability to hide her feelings, because suddenly, I couldn’t tell what was going through her head.
I raised my eyebrows, trying to read her face. “Unless you don’t want to do that.”
“No.” Bailey shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut for a beat before reopening them. Her hazel eyes focused on me, still unreadable, and her posture was rigid, like she had an invisible wall up. “I just…didn’t know if you would. Long-distance seems difficult.”
“Who else is going to put up with me?” I teased, smoothing my hands up and down her arms. Touching her may have been a mistake, though, because now my mind was going in a different direction. Focus, Carter.
She bit back a smile. “Good point.”
“Jokes aside, I would rather have you than not, no matter what that looks like. Why let a temporary situation ruin what we have? I want to be with you for a lot longer than the nine or ten months we would be apart.”
There I went again, assuming. But she didn’t object, only nodded, so maybe I was on track.
I ducked my head, catching her eye. “We’re endgame. Right?” My parents were crazy in love. I never thought I would find that until I met her. And now that I had, I’d fight for it.
The tension in her body eased, and I finally won a full, genuine smile. “You think?”
“I know it.” I glanced at my watch. “If we’re fast, we might have time to get back in bed for a different reason.”
Minutes later, I had enough food to feed a small army loaded onto my plate. Bailey sat across from me with a more reasonable quantity, but she didn’t judge me for eating the equivalent of three meals in one sitting.
“Still going shopping with Siobhan?”
“Yup.” Bailey speared a strawberry with her fork and topped it with whipped cream. “I have to work on that scholarship application first, though. It’s due Monday. The process is killing me. Essay, references, transcript review, and then if I make it to the final stage, I have to do an interview with an entire panel of people.” She paused, mouth pulling into a tiny frown. “I should stop talking about it. I don’t want to jinx it.”
I bit into a piece of bacon and swallowed. “I think you’ll get it.” If anyone could, it would be her. She was great on paper, great in person, and had the grades. Obviously, I was biased, but even factoring that in, I was confident she would be in the top group of applicants.
She pressed her lips together. “You’re sweet, but you’re not exactly objective.”
“If there are that many hoops to jump through, most other people don’t stand a chance. Have you met the average student?”
“Here’s hoping,” she said. “It’s going to be a long day at the mall, I think. I have a feeling Shiv is a marathon shopper.”
Spoiler alert: she was, according to Dallas. And the dude liked to shop, so if he was whining, then it had to be dire. Plus, back when Shiv stayed with us, she’d come home loaded with shopping bags more times than I could count. I tripped on them in the entryway frequently.
“Are you excited about the gala, though?”
“Yeah.” Bailey nodded. Then she pursed her lips and gave me a thoughtful look. “Who’s Ty’s date?”
“His friend Zoe. She’s in the same major as him.”
Bailey arched a brow. “Are they ‘friends’ as in the way we were friends?”
At one point, I wondered this myself, but the constant rotation of different women in his bedroom suggested otherwise.
“Nah. Ty isn’t the commitment type. But it’ll be fun. It’s a nice event, and the food is always good. Plus, I’ll have the hottest date there, so bonus.” I paused, thinking back on last year’s gala. “You didn’t go with Morrison last year, did you?”
“No.” She scoffed like there was a story behind that, but she didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t really want to ask. There’s no way it didn’t involve him being a total and complete piece of shit.
“I figured. I would have remembered you if you had.”
Bailey gave me a crooked grin. “Would you have hit on me?”
Is ice cold? I mean, come on.
“The minute I saw you.”
I wasn’t just flattering her, either. That was a forgone conclusion regardless of where I encountered her for the first time—the gala, XS, a game—hell, I’d have hit on her at the doctor’s office. With someone like her, you shoot your shot no matter what the setting.
“To piss off Luke?”
“No, because you’re fucking hot.”
“Ah. But your date probably wouldn’t have appreciated that.” She bit into her waffle, eyeing me teasingly.
“Who do you think you’re talking to? I didn’t bring a date,” I said. “Ward and I went together.”
At that point, Dallas hadn’t met Siobhan yet. And until Bailey, I hadn’t met a girl I liked enough to bring along to that type of thing—or to any type of thing. The gala’s $625 per head price tag further cemented that. Definitely wasn’t letting Bailey know about that—she’d faint. Or try to argue with me about paying. Didn’t need to revisit the money issue.
“I’m sure you made a handsome couple.”
“Obviously.” I winked at her, pushing my chair back and returning to the counter to refill my plate. “But it’ll be more fun with you there. Last year, we went to put in face time and support a good cause.” It was always nice to see Boyd alumni and to meet players from the league, as well as coaches, managers, and other people in the industry.
“And to get drunk on premium liquor at the fancy open bar?”
“Who, me?” I scoffed, slathering butter onto a waffle and drenching it in syrup. “Never.”
Bailey raised an eyebrow. She knew me too well. Pre-Bailey me spent every weekend—and many weekdays—getting obliterated. My liver was probably thankful I’d met her. And my lungs. My stats were better for it too. I rallied pretty well before, but it was amazing the difference not being perpetually hungover made.
“Ward may have had to drag my drunk ass out of the Uber.” I gave her a sheepish smile. “I won’t do that this year.”
Bailey looked at me over the top of her glass of orange juice, fighting back a grin. “I hope not. I don’t think I could get you up the front steps. You’d end up sleeping in the yard.”
“Don’t worry, I want to be sober for what happens after the gala.” I pulled out my chair and eased back into it, keeping my focus on her. Dammit. I shouldn’t have let my mind wander back in the direction the conversation was heading.
“What’s that?” She leaned over the table expectantly, one elbow on the table, and rested her chin in her hand.
“Dressy sex.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “What’s dressy sex?”
“What it sounds like. Sex after we’re all dressed up,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. “I get to rip off your clothes and mess up your perfect hair and makeup.”