If only Ryke would not show up today.
Lo sips his whiskey.
On second thought, maybe it’s a good thing he is.
I glance back at Connor and Rose and realize they’ve been pretty much silent. They just stare at each other for a really, really long time, as though talking through their eyes.
“Is this what smart people do?” I whisper to Lo.
“They must have some superhuman telepathic power that we don’t have.” He adjusts so my head rests against the hardness of his chest, the warmth enveloping me further. I kinda, sorta, really want them to leave so Lo can take me in surprise.
“Is this still about last year?” Connor asks with a growing smile. “Just because you didn’t know Williams wrote Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy and Problems of the Self doesn’t make you a stupid person. Lots of people don’t know him.”
Her chest puffs out, looking more ruffled than when Lo pushes her buttons. “I know Freud, Connor. I knew Williams influenced him. Had someone on my team not sneezed, I wouldn’t have been so distracted.”
“A sneeze? You’re going to blame your loss on an allergy problem?”
Rose holds up a hand to his face, as if pausing the argument, and sets her icy gaze on us. “You both really can’t be friends with this asshole. Actually”—she points at Lo—“I believe you can, but you, Lily, really?”
Lo smirks. “Keep it coming, Rose. You’re just making me love the guy more.” Oh jeez. And to make matters more complicated, Connor looks amused by the continuation of this madness. He sticks his hands in his pockets, at ease.
“What happened to Charlie and Stacey?” she questions. They never existed.
“They moved,” Lo lies easily. “Transferred to Brown a month ago. I’d let them know you said goodbye, but they wouldn’t care. They didn’t really like you.” And there goes our scapegoat with one new fib.
Rose glares. “That’s real cute, Loren, considering they didn’t even know me.”
“Wait, Charlie who?” Connor asks.
“You wouldn’t know them,” I say.
He looks offended. For real? “I know everyone.”
I open my mouth, at a loss of how to reply to that.
Rose snorts. “You’re always the same, Connor, raising yourself on some prodigious level. I bet your biggest dream is to kiss the ass of Bill Gates.”
Just when I think Rose’s comment has penetrated Connor’s cool, calm, know-it-all exterior, his thousand-dollar smile widens. He takes a step forward, threatening to breach Rose’s safe space.
Lo whispers under his breath, “Protect your balls, Connor.”
I’d agree, but Connor has proven to hold his own so far. He cocks his head at her. “Says the girl who’s clothing line just got dropped by Sax.” He inspects her tailored dress. “Is that piece extinct yet? Or can your two customers go buy it at Plato’s Closet?”
Lo bursts into laughter, and I sink deeper into his arms. This is not good. At all. Rose has longer and sharper claws than me, able to defend herself quite effortlessly.
“Shut up, Loren,” she says first. Then she places a hand on her hip. “So you read the newspaper, Connor. Congratulations, a well-informed citizen of Pennsylvania. Let’s throw confetti and have a parade.”
“Or you could go out with me tonight.”
What?! Lo chokes on his alcohol. I gape, my jaw permanently unhinged. Rose. He just asked out Rose, my sister. I saw this coming, did I not? “Ha!” I say to Lo, poking him in the arm.
He bites my shoulder and murmurs, “She hasn’t said yes yet.”
Oh. I’d like Rose to give Connor a chance. If anyone can verbally keep up with her, he can. But she pushes men away as much as I used to lead them in.
Her body language stays closed off—her face as icy as before. “That’s really funny. Nice joke.” Oh no, Rose, he’s not joking. I want to tell her that this isn’t some cruel trick to make fun of her. She has guards up so she won’t get hurt. It’s easier to be cold than to feel the sting of disappointment.
“It isn’t one,” he tells her, taking another step. Her feet stay cemented to the floor, a good sign. “I have tickets to The Tempest.”
I chime in, “Rose, you love Shakespeare.”
She shoots me a look to stay out of it. I press my lips together, but I see her mind reeling at his proposition. Rose scrutinizes Connor. “So you have two tickets for tonight? This is obviously a pity invite.”