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This is getting ridiculous.
“You okay?”
I nod tightly, still hyperfocused on where his fingers are resting against my back. I thought I was prepared for this, thought that seeing Ian Chase again was just going to be a normal, easy thing, that my old crush was just that. Something that would be good and buried after all this time. Apparently, it wasn’t buried nearly deep enough.
I can see the moment that he realizes he’s touching me; his lips part and the pads of his fingertips press a fraction harder against my shirt, his hand flexing with movement before he lets it fall away. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact and letting his gaze scan the space around us casually.
“Really is crowded in here,” he mutters.
“I’m gonna hit the restroom,” I blurt out, real cool-like. “Order for me?”
“Sure. What do you want?”
I shake my head distractedly. “Whatever. I’m not picky.”
I’m already walking off before he can question me further, my cheeks hot and my body hotter. Just from a stupid fucking touch. An innocent one at that.
I don’t stop until I’m bent over the bathroom sink, splashing some cool water on my neck and telling myself to get a grip. I have to remind myself that Ian has never seen me as anything more than Jack’s kid sister. Hell, he’s still calling me kid now, after all this time. So obviously, nothing has changed. It would be utterly stupid to let an old crush have me acting like a fool.
I give myself a pointed look in the mirror, taking note of my freckled nose and my big brown eyes that make me look younger than I am, my full mouth forming a pout. No wonder he still sees me as a kid. I glare down at my even fuller chest.
“You guys were supposed to help me out when you filled in,” I mutter bitterly. “So much for that.”
I sigh as I grip the sink, shaking my head.
Stop being stupid. Ian is your friend. You’ve had plenty of time to get that through your head. Go back out there and act like a normal, twenty-eight-year-old woman and not a lovestruck teenager seeing a cute boy for the first time.
I nod to my reflection, vowing to do just that.
With my new resolution in mind, I feel more confident when I step back out of the bathroom. Ian waves me over to the little table he’s settled at, and I flash him a bright smile that isn’t awkward or stiff, because I can be normal around him, damn it. I can.
But my smile falters when I get to the table.
“What’s that?”
He follows the point of my finger to the drink he’s bought for me. “What?”
“The drink.” I eye the caramel-drizzled mountain of whipped cream, noting the sprinkles scattered over it. Not to mention the chocolate drizzle on the inside of the cup. “What is it?”
“You don’t like them anymore?” He looks confused. “This shit was all you drank back in the day.”
“You remembered my drink?”
His brow arches, looking even more confused. Like I’m the silly one for thinking him remembering something as arbitrary as a disgustingly sweet drink I used to indulge in once a week over a decade ago is unfathomable.
“I…yeah?”
I actually feel my heart beat faster.
That’s when I realize I’m in real fucking trouble.
Four
IAN
Shit, have I already fucked up?
It felt like a nice gesture, getting her old drink, but the way she’s looking at me—lips parted and a little furrow between her brow—makes me wonder if it was weird.
