Page 40 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
“Put the blame on me,” I joke.
I step out and walk her to the car door, holding it open for her.
“Text me when you get home safe,” I tell her, meaning it.
“You just want me to text you first,” she teases, but there’s warmth in her voice that takes any sting out of the words.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” She reaches up and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “Thank you for tonight. The game, the dessert, all of it.”
“Thank you for losing gracefully.”
“I did not lose gracefully. I cheated and then kissed you to distract you from my poor sportsmanship.”
“If that’s your strategy, I’m looking forward to the next rematch.”
After she drives away, I stand and watch her taillights disappear down the street.
When I get back home, Rex pads out from Finn’s room and sits beside me, leaning his weight against my leg in that way dogs do when they sense their humans are processing something.
“Yeah, boy,” I say, scratching behind his ears. “I think I like her too.”
Inside, I clean up the wine glasses and board game pieces, but my mind is already moving ahead, thinking about the next time I’ll see her. Not just hoping it happens but planning for it. When to text her, where to take her for a second date, how to build on whatever started tonight.
It’s been a long time since I felt this way about someone—interested enough to plan beyond the immediate future, curious enough to want to know more than just the surface details.Harper’s got layers I want to explore, stories I want to hear, a way of looking at the world that makes me want to see it through her eyes.
I’m definitely in trouble.
The good kind.
18
The Middle of Things
Harper
Islipbackintothe dorm a little after eleven, still carrying the faint warmth of Cole’s kiss like a secret tucked into my pocket. The room is dimly lit by the glow of the TV, and Maddie’s already curled on the her bed with her fuzzy throw blanket and her phone, looking like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.
“Well?” she asks without even looking up from whatever she’s scrolling through.
“Well, what?” I try for innocent, but I can feel the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth giving me away.
She lifts her head, dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don’t ‘what’ me. The date? You’re coming home late with that lookon your face, so it definitely wasn’t just dinner and polite conversation.”
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, using the few seconds to compose my expression. “It was just dinner.”
“Dinner and...?” She tilts her head like a curious bird, clearly fishing for details.
“And that’s all you’re getting,” I say, twisting the cap off my water and taking a long sip to hide my growing smile.
Maddie groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch cushions. “You’re no fun. I tell you everything about my dates. Remember when I gave you a play-by-play of that disaster with the guy who kept talking about his CrossFit routine?”
“That was oversharing, not sharing.”
“Details, Harper. I need details. How else am I supposed to live vicariously through your suddenly active love life?”
“Good night, Maddie.”
