“All the bathrooms were full at exactly midnight while everyone was celebrating the ball drop?”
I fold my lips into my mouth. “Mhmm.”
Adam shakes his head.
“Well, what were you and Cara doing going to the upstairs bathroom together?” I’m deflecting, not accusing, but he still slams his fist against my shoulder at the implication.
“Because all the bathrooms were full after midnight when we both needed to go, and Cara said she didn’t wait for anything or anyone, you dipshit.”
I snort a laugh, ’cause I kinda like seeing Adam riled up, name-calling and all that jazz.
He sighs, running his fingers through his dark hair, blue eyes exhausted. “You promise it was only the once? That you’re done?”
I scratch the corner of my mouth, mumbling, “Promise,” into my hand, hoping Adam will forgive me one day.
“So you’ll call that girl then?”
“Girl? What girl?”
“The girl from today! The photographer!”
“Ohhh, right, right. Her. Yeah, I’m gonna call her.” Already deleted her number.
Susie was fine. She was cute and sweet and very friendly. If I were available, maybe I’d take her out. But I’m not available. I don’t think I’m available. Right?
Well, anyway, she’s not Jennie, and that’s the only thing that matters. She’s the only woman I can’t take my eyes off.
When Adam’s finally satisfied enough, she wanders into the kitchen.
She takes a mug down, and I fill it with hot water. She dips a tea bag. “What was that about?”
“Just wanted to make sure nothing was going on.”
Jennie leans against the counter, hiding her smile behind her mug. “Poor Adam. I feel bad lying to such a sweet man.”
“Me, too, especially when his main concern is I stay alive.”
Jennie hums, nodding. “Valid.”
I lean next to her, and when our hands brush, I link my pinky around hers. “Was the karaoke machine a gift for you or for Carter?”
Jennie snickers. “So what if I like to sing too.”
“I think you were born to be on stage.”
“Born to shine, baby.” The current song wanes, and Jennie lifts both brows at me as she pulls her hand back and starts walking toward the living room with her tea. “Garrett’s up next! He wants to sing Moana!”
I’d rather not, but Cara jumps up, declaring she’ll sing with me, and before I know it, I’ve sung half the soundtrack and Jennie hasn’t stopped laughing the entire time. I love being the reason behind her laugh.
When I finally sit down, breathless and hungry, Carter bursts my happy bubble.
“Garrett has a date.”
My jaw dangles, gaze darting to Jennie. “What? No I don’t.”
“Well, not yet. He got the photographer’s phone number from the shoot today.”
“She-she-she…she gave it to me!”
“They were flirting the entire time,” Carter continues. “They were so into each other.”
“No, I-I-I…she was, but I was…I was…” Fuck. The second my eyes meet Jennie’s, she averts her gaze, cheeks a furious shade of red. Cara’s own gaze pinballs between the two of us, a sly grin creeping up her face. Adam just looks fucking exhausted, or disappointed, maybe both.
“I wasn’t flirting,” I mumble, but the words are lost as Carter and Emmett burst into song, duetting to Frozen’s “Do You Want to Build a Snowman,” and for the next hour, all I do is steal glances at Jennie.
By the time we’re headed back to the condo, I’m royally confused. She won’t look at me, and she barely said a word the rest of the evening. Every time somebody addressed her, she asked them to repeat themselves. I tried to tuck my pinky around hers under the kitchen island when we were all lined up to fill our plates, but she twisted away and acted like I wasn’t there. The most I’ve gotten out of her was when she handed me the keys to Carter’s car and asked me to drive home, because the snow was making her anxious.
“It’s nice how close you and Carter are. You can tell just by watching you two.”
She keeps her gaze trained out the window. “Yeah, we always have been. He’s my best friend.”
“And me, too, right?” I poke her thigh and chuckle eagerly. I don’t know why I’m poking her. Everything is awkward and all I wanna do is touch her, put my hand on her knee, twine my fingers through hers. “Jennie?” I prod, poking once more.
She peeks at me, giving me a weak smile. I don’t think that’s an answer. If it is, I don’t like it.
“Well, you’re my best friend.” Because I can’t stop talking. “So, tough cookies.” Tough cookies? Holy fuck, please stop.
I drive for another three minutes in horrible silence, and when we stop at a red light, I can no longer resist the urge to keep my hands off her. I lay my palm face up, fingers spread, and wait.
Jennie watches me but doesn’t take the bait, so I shake my hand.
“C’mon, Jennie. Hold my fucking hand, please. I wasn’t allowed to touch you all day, which is, coincidentally, the only thing I was thinking about.”
The corner of her mouth quirks, and it’s not enough, but I’ll take it. She slides her palm along mine, and when our fingers tangle and she clasps my hand, my nerve endings sizzle. I wonder if I make her feel warm the same way she does me, like a mug of hot chocolate after coming in from the cold, or stepping outside in the spring and feeling the sunshine on your face after a long winter.
Back at the condo, we ride the elevator in more silence, but she keeps her hand tucked softly in mine. When we get to her door, she slips inside, and the way she starts closing it before I can follow makes my heart thump too quickly. She’s upset, and I don’t want her to be.
She gives me a smile, but I hate it. It’s small and sad and kind of shy, half-hidden by the door she’s gripping, barely pulling in her dimples. “Hey, I’m gonna head in alone. I’m pretty tired.”
“Oh. Okay. Are you sure? We could just watch a movie or something? I can tickle your back in bed.”
“Yeah, no, it’s okay. Just gonna go to sleep.”
“Okay.” I rub the back of my neck. “Um…good night, I guess.” I lean forward, and she turns her face so minutely I wouldn’t even notice, except that I get the corner of her mouth rather than her lips when I kiss her.
And that fucking sucks.
Silence floats between us as we stare at each other, making my skin itch. I don’t know what’s happening between us. I know I don’t feel the same as when this started, when all I wanted was an innocent taste. Maybe it’s my fault, for bending rules, giving her more than she ever asked for, the movies, the cuddling, the fucking sweatpants.
But I can’t read her, and right now, when my own feelings are new and confusing and I’m not sure of their depth, I don’t know how to proceed, other than knowing I need to tread lightly. Patience has always gotten me so far with Jennie. Is it farfetched to hope a little more will take me where I want it to? All I know is she scares easy, and scaring her off is the last thing I want to do.