Page 33 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

“Another green flag moment,” I explain.

“Ah.” He scrubs at his neck. “Well, anyway. That’s my explanation for why I’m here. So we’re set on that front. What we have to figure out is how we’ll explainusspending time together.”

An idea creeps up in my head as I stand nearly toe-to-toe with Will:

Friendship between us, not just in the context of our romance practice, which we’re keeping to ourselves, but friendship thateveryonecould see. It would be the perfect explanation for us spending time together, if we bumped into any more friends and family around the city.

The sun jumps out between the clouds, hot and bright. I need to get inside soon, so I won’t burn, but for a moment, I let myselfenjoy that illuminating warmth, the sense that it’s some kind of approving sign from the universe, a reassurance that I’m doing this right.

“Will,” I finally say, hand held over my eyes like a visor as I peer up at him. “I think I have our solution.”

—

Seated on my apartment’s stoop, beneath the maple tree shading us, Will and I talk through my idea. As we talk, he drags his fingers along his beard, gaze trained somewhere in the distance.

With him staring straight ahead, I have an unadulterated view of his profile. I let my gaze travel his nose, long and straight but for a slight bump on the bridge that lends a rough edge to a face that, were it not half-obscured by his beard, I have a hunch is so good-looking the only word that comes to mind isbeautiful. Light bounces off his sharp cheekbones, which are dappled with freckles.

Those damn freckles.

“So, what you’re saying is…” His voice startles me out of my stare, which I hope he didn’t notice. If he did, Will doesn’t let on. “If I spend time with you around your and Petruchio’s mutual friends, and your sisters, no one will think anything of us hanging out one-on-one.”

“Exactly.”

He nods, fingers still combing through his beard. “And we would shelve the romance stuff when we’re with them, right?”

“Right. That way they just perceive us as friends. Which, of course, is all we are!” I add brightly.

Will’s gaze slides my way. His mouth lifts faintly at the corner. “Of course.”

We’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, and somewhere along the way, I started leaning into him. My body is wiped from an active morning, from the heat, which is intense even though we’re in theshade. I’m too exhausted to care, to make myself push off of him and straighten up. I trust Will to give me some cue if he’s uncomfortable with me slumping into him. We promised to be honest with each other, after all.

I notice him watching me, a little notch of what might be concern in his brow, and flash him a smile that I hope makes me look perkier than I feel. “So, how does that plan sound to you?” I ask. “I’m all ears if you want to go at it from a different angle.”

The wind picks up, and it’s glorious, cutting through my dress, cooling everywhere it clings to my sweaty skin. I shut my eyes for a second and bask in it.

My eyes snap open when I feel Will’s touch at the corner of my mouth, his finger brushing my lip as he drags away a strand of hair that the wind stuck it to.

“That plan suits me fine,” he says.

I swallow as I stare up at him, my body hot and achy. And not because I’m sitting on a concrete step at noon in July. But because I love when he touches me. I want him to touch me so much more.

Off. Limits, that wise voice reminds me.

I nod to that wisdom, to Will’s agreement with my plan. “Good. Great.”

“Only thing is,” he says, “for that to work, I’d need to start socializing with them—”

“As soon as possible.”

He nods.

“I was thinking that, too. How do you feel about game nights? I’m hosting one tomorrow. We’d need to figure out how we get you there without me being the one to invite you, but I’m sure we’ll think of something. Shouldn’t make for a late drive home for you either; we wrap up by nine when we have them on Sundays. Everyone’s got to get up for work the next day.”

Will’s eyes are on my mouth as he nods. “Mm-hmm.”

My gaze slips to his mouth, too. A mouth I have maybe possibly thought about kissing today. A lot. A cyclist whizzes by on the street, startling us both. Our eyes snap up and meet each other’s.

“Let’s get you inside,” Will says. His voice is rough at the edges.

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