Page 106 of Seale the Deal

I get the glacier, she says, her words slurring slightly, which was fucking romantic, by the way. You know. If it was real. Great first kiss location. But why in the elevator?

I stare at her for a second, wishing alcohol wasn’t the thing giving her the courage to talk. I want to have this conversation with her when she’s sober enough to remember my answer tomorrow, not in my truck in the middle of the night after losing the contents of her stomach.

I know that whatever comes of this conversation is going to require another one tomorrow. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that she’s waiting for an answer.

That’s a hell of a question, I say because I don’t know what else to say.

You didn’t answer it.

I let out a slow breath. Maybe this isn’t the time to—

No. She shifts in her seat so she’s facing me. We’re doing this right now. We kissed, and we have to figure that out, or we can’t live in the same house.

I think that’s a little extreme.

You’re deflecting, she says, looking more annoyed.

I’m observing.

She points at me. Just answer.

I rub a hand across my jaw. Wrenley.

It’s a simple question, she says. Why did you kiss me?

I let that sit between us for a second because in some ways, it feels unfair. I could ask her the exact same thing. It took two sets of lips to make that kiss happen, and she sure as hell wasn’t standing there patiently waiting for it to end.

But she’s not asking why we kissed. She’s asking why I kissed her.

When I don’t answer quickly enough, she leans closer. Would it make things more clear if I kiss you again right now?

Please don’t, I say. One, you’re drunk. Two, you just puked.

She rolls her eyes. Semantics.

I press my hands to my face, running my fingers over my forehead like I can somehow massage the stress of this conversation out of me. Wrenley—

Look, I get it, she says, her hands now flailing so wildly, I’m genuinely afraid she’s going to accidentally smack me in the face. We weren’t supposed to do anything other than pretend. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Why can’t two people just enjoy kissing each other?

They can.

She gestures between us. We can be those people.

Her eyes are wild, and she has an expression on her face like she just solved something unsolvable.

I’m just confused. A second ago, I thought she was asking the question because she wanted to see if we’re on the same page, but now it’s more ambiguous.

Maybe? My voice comes out a little higher than I intend.

She scoffs. Maybe?

I rub my temples. I’m really trying not to make any comments about our kissing arrangement right now.

So, now it’s an arrangement?

Well—

’Cause I’d be into that.