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“The way you look at him.”
I finish the last bite of my pasta salad. “How do I look at him?”
“The way you used to look at me.” He waves a hand in the air without looking up at me. “You know. All doe-eyed and flushed with uncontrolled desire.”
I cough and take a sip of water. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I agree. You shouldn’t be so obvious, but I know you can’t control it.”
“Price Henry Milloy, you are so full of shit.”
He chuckles. “I’m not. I went poop less than an hour ago. I’m a six on the Bristol Stool Chart, but I was a seven last week, so I’m making progress.”
“Look at me.”
He glances up.
I point to my face. “See? No doe eyes. No flushed face. Discussing where you are on the Bristol Stool Chart is not sexy.”
His brow furrows. “Do you want me to be sexy for you? Are you rethinking the threesome?”
“Play with your Legos, little boy. I have to head home.” I stand and pull on my hoodie.
Price grins. “See you tomorrow, boss lady.”
“Mmm. Good luck with your next bowel movement.” I head toward the door.
“If I had a phone, I’d send you a picture.”
“Do I want to know why you don’t have a phone?” I slip on my shoes.
“Probably not.”
I hold my breath while quickly wiping the corners of my eyes. All these years later, Price Milloy is still my biggest weakness.
A little beforeten that night, I pull around the corner to the back of the general store. A white truck is parked next to my trailer. He said he wasn’t coming home until Saturday.
I barely get my truck inParkbefore leaping out and running to his driver’s door. As I reach for the handle, he opens it and slides out of the seat.
Too cool.
Too slowly.
Toobasically everything that I am not.
I throw my arms around him.
“Whoa!” He laughs, hugging me.
A tiny voice in the rational part of my brain tells me to slow it down.
“Where were you?”
I give the middle finger to that tiny voice while I kiss his neck up to his ear. “Watching Price put together a Lego set.”
Koen stiffens.
“Don’t,” I say with a heavy breath. “We’re just friends.” I kiss him.
