Page 34 of The Crafting Con

“Well, all right. I suppose I can ice it for a bit just to be safe,” I agree, making my way to the refrigerator. “But just for a few minutes, then it’s back to work.”

“Fifteen on, fifteen off for half an hour, or we’re done working today altogether.” Declan shoots me a stern look when I start to protest. “That’s my final offer.”

I roll my eyes, turning my face so he won’t see the pleased blush coloring my cheeks. “Whatever.” I grab an ice pack from the low freezer section. “But can we at least watch some anime while I’m following my unlicensed doctor’s orders?”

“Um, yes.” Declan pours a fresh cup of coffee and holds up the creamer with a questioning look. I nod, and he adds a generous amount into the steaming brew. When he’s finished, he dashes out to the garage to unplug the hot glue as promised, before bustling back in and carrying both of our mugs into the living room. He places them on the low table in front of the couch. Which he sits on—almost directly in the center.

My face warms when I slide onto the cushion beside him, legs tucking up beneath me. Declan turns the Playstation on and loads Crunchyroll. “What do you want to watch?”

His face is turned to the TV, gaze skimming the titles, and I study his profile, lit with a kaleidoscope of shifting colors emanating from the screen. The ache in my chest hits hard and deep.

“Something old.” I swallow. “Something I’ve seen a thousand times, but somehow still surprises me with how much I like it.”

Declan’s throat bobs, and his knuckles whiten as they grip the controller. He doesn’t look at me, not directly, but I can feel his attention on me so fully it makes my head spin.

“Can you think of anything like that?” I whisper, fingers digging into the ice pack.

His head jerks in a nod, his voice rough. “Yeah. I think I can.”

I snuggle deeper into the couch, shifting just enough that my shoulder brushes his. I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t. A smile curves my lips as I turn to the screen.

“Then that’s the one I want.”

CHAPTER 14

DECLAN

Six days until OA Con

I am so screwed. All that talk about never again and not falling for Ava a second time? Yeah, pretty sure that ship has sailed. Yesterday’s anime break turned into a full-fledged Soul Eater marathon, complete with a running dialogue about which costumes and props we wanted to make someday. And as much as I tried to remind myself that when she said those things, surely she didn’t mean us, together, in the future, my heart refused to listen.

So now here I am, checking my hair in my phone’s camera for the fifty millionth time with a mouthful of breath mints burning my tongue. Waiting for the first glimpse of Ava as she comes jogging down the sidewalk from her house. I should be prepping the rest of the foam to be cut, but I’m too keyed up and distracted not to do something stupid, like slicing off the tip of my finger.

It’s not Ava who first appears, however, but a silver Chevy Tahoe that Hiro pulls up behind my truck. Bailey and Zeke tumble out of the back, calling out greetings, and I have never been less thrilled to see them.

“Hey, guys.” I glance up the street—no Ava. “What are you doing here?”

“What are we doing here?” Hiro parrots incredulously, coming around the front of the car. “It’s Sunday at two. We’re picking your sorry butt up and heading over to The Dragon’s Den for opening weekend. You know, like we’ve been literally planning all week?”

Crap.

That was a thing, wasn’t it.

I scrub a hand through my hair with a grimace. “I forgot that was today. I’m sorry, guys, but you’re gonna have to go without me. Ava’s on her way over, and we still need to cut out all of the dagger pieces.”

Hiro waves my reasoning away with a flick of his hand. “So cut them out after school this week or whatever. I already told Ren you were coming today, and you know what a big deal this is for him.”

I do know. Hiro’s older cousin, Ren, has dreamed of opening a medieval-themed board game café for years, and this weekend marks the realization of that dream. I really do want to show up to support him, but…

“Ava’s going to be here any minute. I can’t just bail on her.” Not to mention I don’t want to.

“So bring her along.” Bailey slips her rainbow-painted nails into the back pockets of her flower-patched jeans while she walks over to the workbench and examines the model daggers Ava and I put together yesterday. “These are awesome, by the way. I want some.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” I answer distractedly, my brain still contemplating her offhand suggestion. Hanging out with Ava alone in the garage is one thing. Hauling her to a nerd lair with my friends is another. Would she even want to go?

Memories of our last encounter outside of the workshop twists my stomach in knots. I felt so awkward at that party, surrounded by all those perfect athletes. Friggin’ Tyler. Would Ava feel just as weird being thrown into my world? It used to be hers too, but that honestly might make it worse. Then again, we did watch an awful lot of anime together yesterday.

Maybe it could work.