Page 21 of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

She laughs, biting her bottom lip in a way that makes me wish I wasn’t going commando under these sweats. I suddenly feel naked in public.

‘Way more info than I need,’ she says with a chuckle. ‘Do you like Chinese food? Cause I probably ordered enough if you want some.’

‘I don’t know if you remember this, but I used to eat dinner at my house and then come to yours and do the same.’ I shrug. ‘I can always eat.’

‘And that’s why you’re seven feet tall?’

I laugh. ‘Six four,’ I correct her. ‘And a half.’

The smirk on her pretty face pokes at the old feelings I’m trying to avoid. If I pretend they aren’t surfacing again, maybe they’ll go away?

‘Sorry,’ she says, rolling her eyes playfully.

As she stares at the game I’m once again attempting to play, my eyes wander. Her hair is piled on her head in a messy bun. She’s wearing black-framed glasses, and not a stitch of make-up is on her face.

‘Whatare you wearing?’ I ask, pointing at the colorful leopard print blanket with sleeves she’s got wrapped around her like a robe.

She glances down, scrunching her nose. ‘A Snuggy.’ She pulls it tight around her. ‘Lame, but comforting.’

I nod, my eyebrows raised as I acknowledge her insanity. She has a blanky? I’m gonna bank that info for later.

‘The mourning is going well?’

‘Ugh.’ She blows out a heavy breath. ‘Tristan is an asshole. My best friend since college has disappeared for whatever reason. And I’m spending half my time feeling bad that I haven’t once offered to pay you for eating your food and taking over your Netflix account.’

‘If it weren’t you, it’d be your brother.’

I look back at the TV, focusing on my game, if only to get my eyes off her.

She sits down not far from me, adjusting herself until comfortable. Yes, my eyes are on my game, but I’m struggling to play even remotely as well as I would if she wasn’t here. Usually, right about now, when I suck this bad, I’d be yelling at the TV as if it was its fault, but her Snuggy has ridden up above her waist, and now her tiny shorts are burning a hole in my brain.

‘You suck at this,’ she says.

I laugh out loud, tossing the controller her way.

‘Give it a go,’ I say, standing from the couch and heading into the kitchen if for nothing else but to stand behind the open fridge door to cool off the hormones she’s sent sizzling through me.

‘When’s Mercy back in town?’

She looks up, her eyes suddenly wide. ‘I’m disturbing you.’ She sets the controller on the couch and gets up, heading back to River’s room. ‘Sorry.’

‘No!’ I half yell, surprising even myself. I shut the fridge, hurrying around the island towards her. ‘That’s not what I meant. I just… uh—’

‘It’s alright,’ she says. ‘I know I’m imposing on your life. I bet River never even told you I was staying here before I arrived.’

I shrug.

She nods. ‘I thought so. It’s fine. I’m supposed to call Tristan back anyway.’

Call Tristan? Why?

‘Hols,’ I say, wondering if I should say this as it’s not my place. If River were here, I’d suggest he do it. But he’s a pussy, hiding out with Summer, leaving me to deal with this.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t be talking to Tristan? He can’t be easy to get over when he’s still in the picture.’

Her face drops, her shoulders following, and things go from awkward to worse when she starts to cry.

I’m going to kill River.

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