Hearing Joe’s end of that conversation effectively dries up my tears and I’m laughing—loud, full belly, soul-cleansing cackling. I’m not usually one for letting a guy handle my problems, but that has become mymodus operandiwith Joe. I’ll probably get kicked out of feminist circles for admitting it, but I love having someone solid to lean on. I never had that with Miles, though he definitely had it with me.
When I catch my breath I squeeze his bicep, “Thanks for that.”
He shrugs. “I’ve scared off a few bad ex-boyfriends in my day. Nothing sends the wrong guy running like talking about feelings.” He squeezes my knee playfully, pulling his hand away all too soon. “Was that okay, what I just did?”
Man, I want to kiss this guy’s face off. “More than okay. Your sisters are lucky you stood up for them.”
“No, I meant this.” This time he squeezes my knee and his hand stays in place. It’s warm and strong, big enough to wrap almost fully around my leg. When his index finger strokes the tender spot behind my knee I jump, and his fingers still against my leg.
“Ticklish?”
“Not at all.”
“You sure?” His index finger finds that spot again, whisper-light against my skin.
I jolt. “NOPE.”
His fingers knead into the soft spot at the back of my knee, gentle but torturous. “Still nothing?”
I hold it together for a fraction of a second, but I can’t take it. “Okay, okay, stop!”
And that’s how we spend the rest of our drive home. His deliciously terrible fingers on my legs, me laughing and pushing him away. It’s light, fun and exactly what I need to forget Miles.
Chapter 9
UNKNOWN: Good morning, Indie! This is Sarah. Would you like to join us for Sunday dinner?
I roll over in my sleeping bag, rubbing the crusties out of my eyes before I respond. It’s not even seven o’clock on Sunday morning, which means they are an entire family of early risers. It’s not a red flag, but it’s dark pink.
INDIE: I’d love to! What can I bring? How can I help?
I may not be an early riser, but I’m not about to turn down a dinner invitation to the Pratt’s after a steady diet of take out. And I know better than to show up empty handed.
SARAH: I can always use extra hands! We eat at five, but come in any time. I love your company. It’ll just be us, Joe, and the girls. Low key. Don’t worry about bringing anything.
INDIE:Low key Sunday dinner sounds like heaven. See you soon!
I wouldn’t call dinner with Joe and his family low key, given I just woke up from a dream where the whole town had gathered to watch while he proposed to me (my subconscious is a high pressure place to be), but my heart is skipping at the thought of more time together. I’m also looking forward to meeting the other Pratt girls, especially if they’re anything like their mother and Sunny.
Then a text comes in from Mercer, because apparently I stumbled upon an entire town of early risers.
MERCER: So???
INDIE: So?
MERCER: Ugh. Girl. How was your date with Joe? I’ve been waiting all morning to hear about it!
All morning? It is 6:42 a.m. I should’ve chosen a less crazy town to take my mental health break. Except… Joe. I found Joe here. I think of his fingers on my legs and our almost-kiss last night and sigh, snuggling deeper into my sleeping bag.
INDIE: [five fire emoji]
SUNNY: [barf emoji] I just woke up. I woke up to this. [barf emoji]
INDIE: Sorry, Sunny! I didn’t know you were on this text!
SUNNY: I kid. Mostly. If you keep it to emojis, we'll be fine.
INDIE: In that case…
