Page 30 of Triple Play
Now I’m returning the favor.
The game plays on. Someone scores. Jordie cheers half-heartedly.
I can feel Grant’s awareness of me like static electricity, the way he’s trying so hard not to look over.
Wyatt keeps shifting in his seat, adjusting, as if he can’t get comfortable.
Jordie’s smile is strained.
My dryer buzzes.
“That’s me.” I stand and stretch. My shirt rides up, exposing a strip of stomach.
Three sets of eyes track the movement again.
I take my time folding my laundry in the laundry room, making neat piles, lace on top of each stack because I can.
When I walk back through the living room with my basket, Jordie actually makes a choking sound.
“You okay?” I pause, feigning concern.
“Fine.” He coughs. “Great. Just—good.”
“Okay.” I head upstairs and stop halfway. “Oh, Grant?”
He finally looks at me, his ice-blue eyes dark and dangerous.
“Someone parked in my assigned spot today. Just thought you should know, in case it comes up.”
His jaw ticks. “I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks.” I give him my sweetest smile. “Appreciate you looking out for me.”
The words land just as I want them to.
Because he’s not looking out for me; he’s the reason I need looking out for.
And we both know it.
I finish going upstairs and close my door.
I stand there for a second, heart hammering.
That felt good.
Really good.
Let them stew in the awareness that I’m not some demure girl who’s going to tiptoe around them. That I’m not embarrassed, not ashamed, and not going anywhere.
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Sarah.
Sarah: Update?
Me: Started a psychological war with my roommates.
Sarah: That was fast.
Me: I’m efficient.
