Page 18 of The Perfect Steal

“We should play a video game or something.” My interest sparked at that, but then I remembered we weren’t at Colt’s house and I wouldn’t get to rematch him after the brutal beating he’d given me on our video game the other day.

“I can’t stay too long,” I said, glancing around the room. Most of the faces were familiar, but names weren’t coming to me.

I walked over to a long table, grabbing a piece of celery and dipping it into a vat of ranch dip. Loading up a small plate, I saw an open seat next to Brynn, whose head was stuck in her phone.

My insides twisted, and the inner debate about leaving her alone or striking up a conversation battled within me. Without thinking about it too much, I walked forward, trying to see how she reacted.

“You look so excited to be here,” I said, taking a bite of a carrot as I sat down.

She gave me a half-smile and then dropped it to a neutral position. “What gave it away?”

“Are you your brother’s ride? Or were you actually invited?”

“Hazel is my cousin. My devious, back-stabbing cousin,” she said, glancing around the room, probably for Hazel. “What about you? What brings you to the other Miller home?” Her eyes stared into mine, showing an intensity I hadn’t seen in other girls I’d gone out with before.

“Colt dragged me here. But there’s food, so I’m good.”

Her eyebrow quirked up, and she said, “Yes, food definitely helps any situation.” In a surprise turn of events, she reached forward, taking one of the chips off my plate. Before I could react, she’d taken a bite and laughed, almost choking on the chip.

“Rough night, huh?” I said, sliding down a bit and turning to watch the rest of the room for a few seconds before glancing back. Several emotions played out on her face.

“It’s just been a hectic few months. But basketball is starting, so that helps.”

I nodded, understanding that the beginning of the season was sometimes the most exciting.

“Let me guess, you’re the point guard,” I said, giving her a half-smile. Of course, a girl taller than me would be a waste as a point guard.

“Center, if you can believe it.” Was that a real smile on her face? I’d made tons of girls smile with little flirtations over the past year, but for some reason, this one was so much better than all the rest. Maybe it was because she’d made me work for it. I liked that she wasn’t falling all over herself to get me to see her too.

“Have you always played?” I asked, wondering if continuing the conversation with the sport she apparently loved would keep the smile on her face.

Her eyes narrowed a bit, and then she shook her head. “I started in third grade, I think. My dad coaches the men’s team at UH, so I know a little about it.” She grinned, holding up her thumb and forefinger only an inch apart.

I chuckled, liking the relaxed side of her. “I’m not sure you know much at all,” I said and braced as her fist lightly hit my shoulder. I may have lost a few chips to the floor in the process.

"I love it, and everyone always asks me if I play basketball. Because, height.” She rolled her eyes and then laughed, the sound husky.

“I get that a lot too. People are always so disappointed I don’t play. But your brother plays baseball?” I asked, thinking about John across the room. There was a cheer from the pool table area, and it looked like John had won.

“Much to my father’s chagrin,” she said, shifting so her feet were tucked up underneath her in the armchair she was sitting in, a feat with her height. “My father knows next to nothing about baseball, and part of me wonders if that’s why John loves it so much.”

I nodded, thinking about my own father and baseball. It had been the sport he’d excelled in back in his high school days. We used to go out back and play catch for hours. Sometimes he’d even pitch whiffle balls to me. That ended a year or two after we stopped coding together, and at first, I’d pushed myself to be better so he would actually notice me or come out and play catch. My mother would do a lot for me, but breaking a nail playing catch was not one of them.

Now, I loved baseball for me, for the camaraderie I had with my teammates, and for the high I got when I made a diving catch or stole a base.

“I can understand that. Less pressure.” It was true, as my father didn’t usually grill my sister about what she’d done to improve her skills in dance.

Brynn glanced back down at her phone and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

She hid her phone against her chest. “Do you ever wish you could tell someone they’re being an idiot? Or that they aren’t focused on the right things right now?”

This was territory I hadn’t expected her to talk about. I wanted to pry, but from the look on her face, she wasn’t excited to share details. “Yeah, I have someone like that. It’s hard when they don’t acknowledge you or pretend that they do. Teenagers grow up and move out eventually.”

She smiled again, and I was determined to keep making her do that, although this was a strange topic to be happy about.

“Exactly. There are so many things they miss out on, and I just want to shake them and make them go back to the way they were before.”

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