Page 43 of Good as Gold
Rory shrugs and looks away. “I called him a few days ago, and he said his boss was goin’ to a Vermont wedding and taking a private jet. He offered to give Matteo a lift.”
“On a privatejet?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “That’s cool.”
He shrugs again. “He wasn’t sure it would work out. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you.”
“Right,” Leila breathes. But now her heart is thumping with excitement.Matteo. “When would he get here?”
“Dunno. I think tonight? I told him about the pond party. Said we were going.”
“Why didn’t youtellme this?” she demands.
Rory shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to think what to say. The reason is right in front of him—it’s that look on her face. Unrestrained excitement. It makes him uneasy.
Everything about dating Leila makes him uneasy. He’s nuts for her. Can’t keep his hands off her. Can’t believe his own luck. The first time he woke up next to her in her little room in Burlington he thought he might still be dreaming.
But he knows he’s in over his head. She’s not just any girl. And whatever fleeting impulse led her to get involved with him could evaporate at any moment.
The fear of screwing it up burns brightly inside him. Whenever he opens his mouth, the words coming out are never quite right. Not to mention that tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and he hasn’t bought her a present yet. Nothing he can afford is anything she’d want. Even if he could figure out what that was.
It’s fucking terrifying.
Naturally, Matteo picks right now to show his stupid face in Vermont.
“Did you tell him?” Leila asks softly. “About…?” She opens her mouth and closes it again, unwilling to give a name to whatever this is between them.
His heart drops another notch. “I didn’t tell him nothing.”
“But we’ll have to.”
The serious frown on her face makes him feel sick. As if it’s a burden, not a joy, to tell their oldest friend that everything in Rory’s life is suddenly a thousand times brighter than ever before.
“We could just…not,” he suggests.
“But that will make it weird.”
“You’re making it weird right now,” he says, and then smiles, hoping to joke his way out of this.
“No, I’m not.” She folds her arms and stares him down with her trademark stubbornness. She presses her lips together, and he just wants to kiss her so bad it’s hard to stand still.
“But why shouldhecare what we do?” Rory asks. “When has he ever cared?”
“He cares,” Leila insists. But then her eyes drop, because he has a point. Matteo has been home to Vermont exactly twice in the last four years.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rory sees a car stop outside at the curb. It’s a taxi, and they’re rare in Vermont. There’s only one in Colebury.
Matteo’s brother owns it.
Leila doesn’t notice. She’s facing Rory, and she’s distracted by all the butterflies in her stomach. She’selatedby the prospect of seeing Matteo. But that joy is a little confusing. The prospect of telling Matteo that she and Rory are a couple fills her with dread, and it’s hard to say exactly why.
It’s just awkward to talk about, she tells herself.That’s all.
The other possibility is just too messy to allow herself to consider—that she’s dating the wrong guy.
Rory steps forward and cups her face in his palm. “You’re overthinking things again,” he whispers. “You know I have to take serious measures when that happens.”
She smiles, because he’s right—she’sfantasticat overthinking. And he’s the opposite—all action, no regrets.
Be fearless, like Rory, she tells herself sometimes. And right now is one of those times. So when he leans in and kisses the corner of her mouth, it’s not unwelcome.
