Page 22 of Any Port in a Storm

“He is cute,” Nick says with a smirk.

Grace throws up her hands dramatically. “Well, far be it from me to take him from you. He’s all yours, Nick.”

Nick snorts. “He’s not really my type, but thanks.”

“Well, who are you going to take?” Her words sound casual, but the way she’s eyeing him over her cupcake is anything but. I shoot her a warning look.

Nick shrugs. “I wasn’t planning to go, really. I’m an old man, remember? Formals are undergrad stuff.”

“Aw, come on, Nick,” she whines. “I can think of a very eligible young lady who needs a date.”

I cast daggers at her across the picnic blanket.

“You couldn’t possibly be referring to this woman.” He jabs me in the ribs. “No way she hasn’t been snapped up already.”

Grace is clearly delighted with herself. “That’s exactly to whom I’m referring.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need a date. Or to go at all, for that matter.”

“You do!” she protests. “Who am I going to hang out with?”

“Roger Altman,” Nick and I say at the same time.

“Yeah, but besides him.” She rolls her eyes. “I need my best friend there.”

“I guess I could ask Sam,” I say, rolling the idea around in my mind. “He always talks to me in class. I feel like he’d say yes, but I don’t know for sure. Maybe I can⁠—”

“I’ll take you,” Nick interrupts. “Let’s go to formal together, Laurel.”

I whip to face him so quickly that my ponytail smacks into my ear. “I’m sorry, what?”

“We can go together. No need to ask Sam.” The look on his face is light, but I see shadows swirling beneath.

Is Nick…jealous?

“Thanks,” I say quietly, my stomach suddenly feeling like the airspace in a butterfly garden. “That’ll be nice.”

“Aw, that’s perfect!” Grace is positively glowing with her success. “My two best friends, together at formal. And me with Roger Altman. It’s going to be a fabulous time!”

“You’ll have to ask him first,” I remind her, torn between being annoyed with her meddling and beside myself at the thought of slow dancing with Nick.

“Or maybe we could ask him for you,” Nick suggests teasingly, reaching over my shoulder to grab another cracker. His arm brushes mine, and it feels…nice. Comfortable. Right. Like something I want to lean into and make my own.

Grace wrinkles her nose. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

He shrugs. “Well, if you’re sure. You just seem so fond of telling people to ask other people out on dates. I figured maybe ordering us to do it on your behalf would appeal.”

“You’re the worst, Nick.” She wraps her arms around her knees and looks out at the river.

“I have whiplash,” he whispers into my ear. “It was just moments ago she was telling us we were the best.”

“You’re not kidding,” I whisper back. “Now imagine living with her.”

He snickers.

“I heard that, you guys,” Grace says airily.

I lean back toward his shoulder. “You really don’t have to go to formal. I know it’s lame.”