Page 67 of Flirting with Trouble

“Thanks.” Leni looks between us and arches a brow. “Should we seat you two together at the wedding?”

“Definitely. Right, Vic?” Wells asks.

“Yeah.” I don’t know why that makes my stomach feel funny, when I know damn well I’ll want to sit with him at the wedding. It just seems like a big step. Like we’re coming out to everyone he knows as a couple, which is silly. Especially if what Leni says is true about gossip spreading faster than colds on the island. If Sutton mentioned the video call with my family to anyone, or if Wells has told friends or family that we’ve been spending time together, then that grapevine is probably already buzzing.

“You guys want to hang out with us tonight?” Wells offers, and I’m glad he does.

I have no idea why being together on the island seems like a bigger deal than hanging out with Leni and Raz here in the city. Maybe I’m just losing my mind.

“No, thanks,” Leni says. “We just picked up dinner.”

Raz holds up a to-go bag from the Thai restaurant down the street. “Rain check?”

“That would be great,” Wells says.

“Yeah, let’s plan something,” I suggest.

“Okay. I’ll text you,” Leni says. “Good to see you guys.”

“You, too,” we say as they walk away.

Wells turns to me with a playful grin. “You’re now officially my date for their wedding.”

“Don’t count your chickens, Silver. I still haven’t decided whether I can hang out with a guy who slathers cheese on his unsalted pretzel.”

He cocks a grin as we head down the sidewalk. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir? I like that,” he says seductively, and I laugh. “You can’t knock the taste of perfection until you try it.” He breaks off a piece of pretzel, dips it in the cheese, and tries to feed it to me.

“Ew.” I turn my face away.

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not. I just know it’s not going to be as good as mine.”

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll taste yours if you taste mine.” He waggles his brows.

“My pretzel is good. Yours is probably gross.”

“Have you ever had a pretzel with cheese?”

“No, but look at it. It doesn’t look nearly as yummy as mine with all this sugary goodness.”

“Yours does look good,” he admits as we cross the street. “I’ll tell you what. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to be my date for the wedding.”

“Even though I don’t want to be the topic of island gossip, I’m not giving up my seat next to you.”

“That’s my girl.” He steals a kiss. “Besides, the gossip mill is already churning. Sutton must have said something, because Jules asked Bellamy about us, and my sisters cornered me last week. And then Brant asked about us on Monday.”

I blow out a breath. “Okay. I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

“Does that freak you out?”

“Only mildly. That’s silly, right?”

“Nothing you feel is ever silly. You told me at Cage’s party that you didn’t want to have to answer questions from your colleagues, but I think you’re safe from that. It’s just island gossip, so how about we don’t think about it today?”