Page 89 of Striking Range

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs, dropping slices of baked apple in the mixture. “Just that you two live in your own world, you know? Even when it’s all four of us, you hardly take your eyes off each other. Especially these past few weeks.”

“You’re overthinking it,” I insist. “He’s my best friend.”

Kelly sighs. “Right. You’re best friend.”

“Kelly—”

“Hey, pup,” Everett interjects, coming up behind us without warning. “What’re you doin’?”

“Helping with the cider,” I tell him, turning around to greet him.

Everett looks like a vision. Almost as if he’s playing some kind of cruel joke on himself, he’s dressed this Halloween as a fairy. The guy version, with his pointed ears, the glitter on his cheekbones, and small, black wings on his back.

His hair is arranged nicely, with some of the same glitter from his cheeks sprinkled in. His clothes are nothing special, just jeans and a tight-fitting shirt, but he looks magical all the same.

I’d definitely let him take me away to his magic kingdom.

“I just added some of your favorite songs to the playlist. Want to come dance?” He’s grinning at me, fingers twitching as if he’s resisting the urge to reach out and hold me.

But come dance? With him? That’s not something two guys who are just friends do together. At least not here in Sinclair. If I dance with him now, people might get the wrong idea.

Or, well, technically the right idea—but one they should not have nonetheless.

“No, I’m okay,” I reply, forcing my own smile.

Everett’s grin falls away, replaced by something confused and mildly hurt. “Oh. Okay. You’re just gonna… stay here?”

“Nope,” Kelly says, popping the P. “He’s going to dance with me. You’re on cider duty now, Ev. Just mix it all up and add the Rum.”

And with that, Kelly grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room. I follow after her dutifully, throwing an apologetic look over my shoulder as Everett watches, his mouth gaping.

But dancing with Kelly is the safer of the two options, with Evie’s home life being a factor.

Something poppy and fast-paced is playing over the speaker, so Kelly grabs my hands and sways her hips, shimming her shoulders every other beat. I play along, doing only half of what she is and with much less enthusiasm.

“I love this song!” she shouts to me, a wide smile on her lips.

“It’s good,” I agree, though in truth, I do not know it.

Kelly rolls her eyes. “You need a drink, and stat. What’s got you so uptight?”

“I’m not.”

Not uptight, per se. As I’ve said before, I love a good reason to get a bunch of my friends together and let loose. But ever since Everett and I formed this secret relationship, I’ve found that being around a lot of people is kind of a hindrance.

Right now, I can’t touch him. I can’t hold him against me and feel the beat of his heart. I can’t accept his surprise kisses or his flirty, wholesome compliments.

“You’re pouting about something,” Kelly adds. “I know you well enough to notice that.”

“Maybe I’m just tired,” I counter, raising an eyebrow as she rolls her eyes again.

“You seriously need a drink.”

“Then I better go get one. I’ll be right back.” I release her hands and head back to Everett, just as he’s done finishing the cider.

He looks up from his task as I approach, preemptively grabbing an empty cup.