Page 39

“I told you I liked it.” She says it like that should settle the matter.

Now I’m the dumbass?

I push a piece of egg around my plate.

“You’re pouting.”

“I’m not fucking pouting.”

Her mouth curves.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Yes.”

At least she’s looking at me now.

I lower my fork.

What the fuck?

Heather’s oblivious to the fact that something is wrong with me. She’s drinking coffee like what happened yesterday didn’t rearrange a single fucking thing. Maybe it didn’t for her.

I look down at my plate. The bracelet she made me catches against the edge of the table. Her ugly one is still there too.

“Are we not going to talk about yesterday?”

Heather glances toward the window before looking back at me. “What about it?”

I stare at her. “The part where we kissed.”

“You liked it.”

My face gets hot. “That’s not the fucking point.”

“What is the point?”

I open my mouth and discover I don’t actually have an answer that won’t make this conversation worse.

Heather waits. I hate when she does that.

“Jesus Christ.” I lean back in my chair. “Do you do this on purpose?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t even think you know what I’m talking about.”

A laugh gets out before I can stop it.

Her coffee sits forgotten beside her hand while she watches my face with her full attention. She reaches across the table and runs her thumb beneath my eye. “You’re prettier when you’re not frightened.”

I go still as her thumb moves onto my cheek. “Still pretty frightened.”

“I know.”

“You don’t seem bothered by that.”

“No.”