Page 82 of Bitter Sweet Heart

Maverick: If your goal was to make me want to read into that statement, mission accomplished.

Another message appears thirty seconds later.

Clover: I miss you.

I stare at those three words, wondering how hard it was for her to type them when I’m thinking the same thing.

Maverick: We match, then. Can I call you?

It takes nearly three minutes for her to respond.

Clover: Please.

I tuck my noise-canceling wireless earbuds into my ears and hit the video chat icon. A few seconds later, Clover appears on the screen. She’s sitting on a bed, wearing a pair of shorts and a tank. She’s definitely not wearing a bra. Her hair is pulled up in a topknot, strands hanging around her face. One knee is pulled up to her chest, chin resting on it.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” I set my phone in the holder attached to my bedpost so I can recline against my pillow without having to hold the phone. It’s great for watching movies in bed. Among other things.

Her eyes roam over my face, and she takes in my surroundings as she fingers the charm around her neck.

“I miss you too, in case you were wondering,” I tell her. “And I could practically feel your guilt knocking against my screen from that one message. You been up in your head the whole time you’ve been with your family?”

She drops her forehead to her knee, then peeks up at me. “How am I that transparent after one message?”

“It’s not just what you say, Clover. It’s what you don’t say and your actions that give you away.”

“Like opening the gift early,” she supplies.

“It was sort of a tip-off that maybe you were thinking about me the way I’ve been thinking about you. I know you asked for time to think, but, uh, it’s making me pretty crazy over here, not knowing whether I’m coming or going.” I swallow my nerves, nab a piece of paper from my nightstand, and start folding it.

“I’m sorry for that. I wish this were . . . less complicated.”

I want to say it’s only complicated because we’re making it that way, but that would be untrue. “You on the fence about New Year’s, then?”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, releasing it slowly. “I should be.”

I tuck an arm behind my head. “Does that mean you’re leaning in my favor?”

She lifts the charm and runs it over her lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

It’s not a direct answer, but it’s not a no. “Does that mean you’ve beentryingto stop thinking about me?”

“I’ve been watching hockey with my dad.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not answering my questions.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s as if when the semester ended, the imaginary wall I tried to create to keep us from doing something we shouldn’t suddenly didn’t have a foundation anymore. And now that it’s gone, I have permission to want things. To want you,” she says softly. “And I do. A lot.”

“Can I be honest with you?” I ask.

“Of course.” Her expression reflects nervousness.

“I haven’t tried not to think about you. In fact, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Clover. Do you want to know what kind of thoughts I’ve been having?”

“I’m pretty sure I can guess.” I love the way her cheeks flush and she bites back a smile.

“You want me to tell you anyway?”

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