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“Too late in the season for that, dummy,” he says, not much conviction behind it. “You want something to drink?”
I point at the brown bag on the table. Drew pulls out the bottle and his eyebrows go up.
“You knock over a bank or something?”
“Sh-Shut up and get me a g-glass already,” I say, pulling off my scarf as I head for his couch.
Drew comes back a moment later with a blanket tucked under his arm and two squat, heavy-bottomed crystal glasses. He pours me a drink and waits until I tuck the blanket around my legs before getting his own.
“Better?” he asks. I nod.
We sit in silence for a long minute, long enough for me to wonder what the hell I thought I was doing barging over here like this. Now that I’m here and in his face, the last thing I want to do is talk about things. Drew seems to be having the same idea, considering he hasn’t looked at me since we sat down.
“So how’d the competition go for you today?”
“Fine,” I answer. Feeling is starting to come back in my toes. “I wasn’t automatically eliminated, so I can’t complain. It’s been a fun ride.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” says Drew. “I know the network gets their next big show out of it, but I really wanted it to be enjoyable for the contestants too.”
“You definitely managed that,” I say, clinking my glass to his in toast. “Here’s to a job well done.” Drew toasts me back, finally looking at me as he takes his drinks. He knows something’s up, but I still can’t bring myself to talk about what I really want to talk about, so instead I change the subject.
“Speaking of jobs well done,” I say, studying the amber liquid in my glass. “I thought Cooper was outstanding.”
Drew stands up abruptly, drink in hand, and walks over to the bookshelf across the room. He fiddles with some picture frames, avoiding my gaze.
“He did pretty well, all things considered,” he says after a pause.
“What things?”
“Hmm?” Drew glances my way.
“What things considered?” I ask. “I wasn’t privy to whatever went on behind the scenes. What happened?”
Drew turns to face me.
“What exactly are you asking, Bailey?” he says, his voice hard.
“I was just asking about Cooper and how well he did with the competition. Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about something else entirely?”
Drew doesn’t answer me.
“This is about him kissing you,” I say, light dawning.
“Leave it—”
“No,” I say. “Bad enough we’re not talking about the fact that we kissed—”
“Why do we have to talk about any of it?” he asks, exasperated.
“Because that’s what friends do, goddamn it.”
“Really,” says Drew. “Apparently friends also spend whole weeks avoiding each other. Is that how it works?”
My face feels hot. “You were avoiding me, too.”
Drew sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
