Page 50 of Heartthrobs Don't Date Wallflowers
I stared at the grey sweatpants for longer than Iprobably should have, though, as I decided if I should change into them. I mean, it was one thing to borrow a sweatshirt, but sweatpants? That felt… weirdly intimate. But he’d offered them up without me asking, so he clearly didn’t mind, and really, what was the alternative? Staying in my dripping wet skirt?
Screw it.
I pulled the sweatpants on. Then rolled up the bottom of them three times over so they weren’t so long that I was tripping on them. When I looked in the mirror, I realized I’d gone from looking like a drowned rat to looking like a kid dressed up in someone else’s clothes. Both the sweater and pants were way too oversized and practically hung off my body.
But at least I was warm. And, honestly, even though I looked a little ridiculous, it made my heart flutter to know that I was wearing Zach Miles’ clothes.
When I stepped back into the living room, Zach was sitting on the couch, flipping through his phone. He glanced up when he saw me, his expression still unreadable, though his eyes lingered on me a little longer than usual.
I tugged the sleeves of the sweater over my hands and wondered what exactly the protocol was now. Obviously, I’d have to be here for a little bit. Zach answered my unasked question by scooting over on the couch, even though there had already been space, making it painfully obvious that I was supposed to sit down.
“The clothes look good on you,” hesaid softly as I sat. I pretended I didn’t hear him because I wasn’t sure what I could say to that.
Zach shifted on the couch, his hand resting on the back, not too far from where I sat. I fiddled with the hem of the sweater, my heart thudding so loud in my chest that I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.
My phone buzzed in my lap, lighting up with a new message. I glanced down at the screen, seeing a text from the group chat. Nothing important, from what I could tell. Then again, I never knew what they were talking about.
Though, I had spent most of this afternoon trying to think of ways I could bring the group chat up to Jude, now that I knew he was in it, but I’d come up blank. I couldn’t very well just go “hey, Megan accidentally added me to this group chat that I know you’re in and I need you to tell me the identities of every single person in it.”
“Who’s that?” Zach asked, his voice casual as he leaned a little closer, peeking over.
“Uh…” I hesitated, shifting the phone in my hand. “Just a group chat. My friend accidentally added me to it, and I’ve just… never left.”
It sounded so stupid when I said it out loud and I let my words awkwardly trail off. Zach didn’t say anything, but his eyes remained focused on the screen, where new messages were coming in every few seconds.
“Maybe you should send something.”
“Oh no, I can’t. It’s too late now.” I felt my cheeksheat up at the thought. “If I said something after all this time, it would be so weird.”
Zach chuckled, looking away, but there was something in his expression—like he knew something I didn’t. “Yeah, better to just watch from the sidelines, I guess.”
I nodded, though his words echoed in my head a little too long. It was almost like he was teasing me, but I couldn’t figure out why.
I glanced outside and realized with a frown that at some point since I’d gotten here, someone had pulled into my driveway. It was hard to see from this angle, but it looked like my Mom’s car.
“So, uh…” I awkwardly shifted like I was going to get up but didn’t stand yet. “I guess I should get going.”
“Need me to walk you home?”
I was so taken aback by the words that I wasn’t even sure if he was joking or not, since the walk was less than a minute. To stay on the safe side, I cracked a smile and said, “Somehow, I think I can manage.”
As I headed toward the door, Zach grabbed my jacket from where it had been hanging to dry and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed, and I felt a little jolt, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the touch or just the fact that he was still standing so close.
“Goodnight, Ivy,” he said softly, opening the door for me.
I didn’t realize until I got home that I was still wearing his clothes—and I wasn’t sure if I was ever planning ongiving them back.
After the day I had, all I wanted to do was collapse in bed. So when I saw a call coming through from Not Zesty as I was lying awake just after midnight, I almost declined it. But then I imagined having to go a night without talking to him and I decided it didn’t matter what mood I was in, I wanted to talk to him.
“What are you doing right now?” I asked him.
“I just finished working out,” he said.
“Because nothing says ‘midnight’ like cardio and protein shakes.” I shifted on my bed to pull the comforter over me.
“It’s practically a lifestyle,” he replied. “Plus, Luca brought me a coffee tonight and swore it was decaf. I’m starting to think he’s a liar.”
“You should be less trusting. Or train yourself to not be affected by caffeine.”
