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“Sure,” I answer dumbly, my brain still reeling.
She points out the box with the dice and the score sheets for me to grab, hardly even waiting for me to pull it out before she’s starting out of the room. I hold the game in my hand and watch her go, needing a second to collect myself before I follow after her.
You really never noticed?
I want to pull her back and ask her what those words meant. I want to know what that look on her face meant. I want to know if she was actually joking or if she meant everything that she just said. But mostly…
I want to know why I’m so disappointed by the possibility that she didn’t.
Eleven
DELILAH
“And…cut!”
I run my fingers through my hair as people on set start to move about after wrapping. I managed to keep focused during filming, but admittedly, only just. My mind wants to wander every time I let it off the leash for too long, and I suspect that it can all be traced back to a moment in my childhood bedroom that happened days ago now.
“You’ve got flour in your hair,” Ava says, sidling up next to me.
I pick at a stray tendril and see that, yes, she’s absolutely right. “Shit.”
“The cutest little pastry ghost,” she coos.
“Fuck off,” I mutter.
“Oh, someone’s cranky.” She tugs me to the sink, leaning against the counter as I wash my hands. “Tell Mama all about it.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“You’re a terrible liar. You’ve been spacey all day.” She waits until I’ve finished drying my hands, looping her arm through mine and leaning into me conspiratorially. “It doesn’t have anything to do with a certain hockey player, does it?”
I can feel my face pinch, which is more than enough for Ava to latch on to.
“Aha!” She nudges me in the side with her elbow. “Spill. I want details. The pictures floating around are very…compelling.”
“It’s nothing,” I say automatically, my stomach twisting with the words. “We’re just friends.”
“Did you even see that park photo? Man practically had stars in his eyes, and he was almost on his knees for you.”
“That was taken out of context,” I counter. “We were having a serious conversation.”
“You tell yourself whatever you have to, girlie,” she laughs. “I think there’s some fucking chemistry there.”
God, I wish that were true.
It’s so much harder than I thought it would be, playing this game. Every time that I see Ian, spend time with him, I’m reminded of all the reasons why I was so obsessed with him to begin with. There’s something so…comforting about him. Something solid and reliable that feels like stability and home and all sorts of other good things that turn me into a pile of goo whenever he’s nearby.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s fucking hot either.
“I actually think I might have been weird recently,” I admit, reaching the refreshments table and grabbing a water. “I’ve been too chickenshit to text him in the last couple of days.”
“Details,” Ava says with a snap of her fingers. “Right now.”
“Well…We all went to dinner at Aunt Bea’s this week, right?”
“Yeah, and?”
“It was going well. Felt just like old times, honestly. But then there was this moment in my bedroom—”
