A small smile returns to his lips, tentative but genuine. "That's because I'm secretly just as nerdy as you are."
A genuine laugh escapes me this time. "Wasn't much of a secret." I start the engine, the sudden roar filling the silence. "Now let's get out of here before those geese organize some sort of revenge plot."
He doesn't respond, his gaze fixed on something beyond the windshield. My fingers clench around the leather-wrapped steering wheel, the material cool against my heated skin.
"For the record," I say, each word carefully measured, "I have very few friends. A shit-ton of acquaintances, sure, but real friends? You're one of three people who knows about my marriage situation. And you're the only person who knows I'm not as good a runner as I claim to be."
Andy turns to me, one eyebrow arched in question. A faint smile touches his lips, and it hits me with the force of a physical blow. A blush creeps across his cheeks as he breaks our gaze, and I grip the wheel tighter, my pulse hammering against my ribs.
"You gonna be my fucking friend or not, Andy?" I ask, my voice deliberately light despite the frantic rhythm in my chest.
He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. "Well, we can't do that because we're seeing other people, but... I'll be your regular friend."
My breath catches, a sharp inhale that turns to dust in my throat. The world tilts, the sunlight through the windshield fracturing into a thousand shards of impossible brightness.
Did those words actually leave his mouth, or did my own desperate mind conjure them from the static between us?
The silence cracks first—a choked sound from Andy, a hitch in my breath—then shatters into laughter that fills every corner of the car. It's not just a sound but a current that flows between us, rippling through the confined space until it finds its release in tears. My cheeks burn with the stretch of a smile that won't quit, and somewhere beneath the ache in my ribs, a weight I hadn't realized I was carrying lifts, leaving me light, breathless.
When I pull up to his building, the absence of his presence is immediate and profound. His door clicks shut, and the passenger seat suddenly feels cavernous, cold in a way it hasn't been all morning. Through the window, I watch his silhouette disappear behind the glass doors, the soft glow of the lobby swallowing him whole.
The way he turns to wave goodbye, his humor still sparkling in his eyes, leaves me grinning like an idiot the entire drive home. Each streetlight illuminates my reflection in the rearview mirror. I'm a man smiling at nothing, his expression unguarded in the privacy of his luxury car.
He terrifies me.
Not with his strength or his wit, but with the effortless way he's slipped past every defense I've spent years building. The engine hums beneath me, a familiar purr that usually soothes, but tonight it sounds like a warning.
Chapter 14
The Group Chat
Vince
Vince:Hey. Question. Hypothetically, how do you stop yourself from falling in love?
Gary:Vince.
Wayne:Great. Another hypothetical. Have you tried telling Sam about Andy?
Vince: Sam already knows about Andy.
Wayne:Sam does not KNOW about Andy. What'd you tell her?
Eli:Hook me up with Andy. Problem solved.
Gary:We’ve been over this, hun. The answer is to walk away.
Aubrey:Can we add Andrew to the group chat?
Cynthia:YES!
Eli:Make sure to share the chat history.
Vince:Holy shit, is that a thing?
Vince:Don't add him. Please.
Vince:How is that a solution, adding him to our group chat, Aubrey?
