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“My fault,” he said through the sweater. “I dropped you.”
“I mean—yes, I’m sorry about your nose—but I’m sorry about…” She ducked his gaze. “I got carried away with the kiss.”
“Mmm, pretty sure that was me.”
She shook her head. “I backed into the tree and then put my legs around…” She trailed off, cheeks going bright red.
“Uh, no. The tree was me. The legs were me. Or if not completely me, then sixty percent me. I got carried away.”
She seemed ready to argue. Then she stopped. “Where’s Robbie?”
Chris frowned and looked around, hoping he was selling the look of confusion.
“Did he leave?” Daphne asked.
“I guess so. Huh. Never noticed.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I didn’t notice, either. Definitely carried away. I’ll blame nerves from the shoot. Hey, it’s better than stress-puking, huh?” She made a face. “Did I actually say that? So smooth.”
“Making out is better than stress-puking. So anytime I’m around and you need to work off a little stress…” Chris waggled his brows, making her laugh. Then he said, “I’m teasing. If you’re stressed, I’ll distract you with bad jokes and questions about bear safety.”
She looked at him and then said, “You’re really sweet, you know that?” She made a face. “Is that okay? Calling you sweet? I’d say ‘nice,’ but that can be a loaded word.”
Chris faked a whine. “‘Nice guys finish last. Women say they want nice guys, so why can’t I get a date?’ Yeah, not being an asshole doesn’t make you nice. It’s a scale, not a Boolean dichotomy.”
She smiled over at him. “Well, you actually are nice, and to me, that is definitely a compliment.”
“Then I’ll take it as one. Thank you.”
Daphne nodded, and the nod just kept going, as if she wasn’t sure what to do. She glanced to the side, where Tika lay patiently.
Say something, buddy.
Like what?
Something. Anything. Yeah, that kiss didn’t end quite as smoothly as you’d have liked, but there’s still an opening. She just complimented you. She also admitted she was as into that kiss as you were. Nudge that door. See where it leads.
“I, uh…” he began.
Come on. Say something, damn it.
“My nose seems to have stopped bleeding.”
Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
He smiled. “It does that. Sneeze too hard, and I’m spraying blood everywhere.”
You’re beyond help, you know that?
Daphne laughed. “It’s still better than stress-puking.”
“Oh, I don’t know. For prom, I finally got up the nerve to ask a girl I really liked. She said yes. I showed up at her door, and she opened it too fast, and it clipped me in the nose. I got blood all over her dress.”
I give up.
Daphne winced. “Ouch.”
