“Nice shot, big boy,” she whispered as I passed her, her hand on my bicep, and I knew she was joking, but I felt a shiver pass through me so strong it made my eyes roll back a bit.
Unfortunately, Chloe seemed to have heard Amy’s pet name, and she and Lauren proceeded to call me “big boy” for the rest of the round until it lost all suggestiveness.
After axe throwing, Amy and Lauren went together to brave the queue for another round, and Chloe and I gravitated towards the table tennis. I picked up a paddle and served gently to her, but she spiked it back so hard it had a dent in it when I went to retrieve it.
“What the hell?” I asked, grabbing a different ball and serving again. Her return was much gentler this time, though at great expense to her, I could tell.
“Sorry,” she said. “I know it’s not going well.”
I sighed. “You want my opinion?”
“You know,” she said, “I genuinely don’t think I need it. It’s not good, is it. Unlike you and Amy, who are disgustingly cute of course. I’m surrounded by love, and it’s killing me. I swear it’s half the reason I keep crawling back.”
Amy and I hadn’t been particularly affectionate or flirty, I didn’t think. But I didn’t like that Chloe was feeling so isolated. I promised myself I’d find a way to spend more time together, though I had no idea when that would be, given my distinct lack of free time.
“But seriously,” Chloe said, “it’s such a mindfuck. We have buckets of chemistry, but we fight all the time.”
I shook my head. I’d yet to see those buckets of chemistry, to be honest. “I mean, you’re far from your best self around her. I’ve never seen you bend over backwards like that for anyone before.”
“Back at ya,” she said, sounding almost defensive. “I’ve never seen you with anyone the way you are with Amy.”
“Is it a bad thing?” I asked, suddenly panicked that everyone had been watching Amy and me date– or at least pretend to date– as if they’d been watching a car crash.
She shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I’m a little worried it won’t end well.”
I rolled my eyes, prepared for a repeat of the warning she’d issued five years ago. That Amy had always had a thing for me, and that I needed to be careful, because I could really hurt her.
“It’s not like that anymore,” I said, focusing my gaze on the ball. “I know she had a thing for me growing up, but we’re both adults now.”
Instead of returning the volley, Chloe caught the ball the next time it came her way. “I know that,” she said. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“What then?”
She sighed. “It’s you, Phil. You’re the one that’s been obsessed with her for years. Sure, back then I was more worried about her. But if you think I can’t tell how into her you are, you’re crazy. And if it doesn’t work out, you’re the one I’m worried about.”
I pinched my lips together, staring her down. I refused to let myself get worked up to the backdrop of “Blue” by Eiffel 65.
“You’ve got too much to lose, Phil. Just be careful.”
I hated how much sense she was making. And she had no idea how right she was. Had the relationship been real, I might have been able to brush off her concern. But given that we weren’t actually together… well, I was almost certainly on the path to getting my feelings hurt. Especially since we’d yet to discuss our breakup strategy.
I nearly told Chloe everything right then and there, Eurodance soundtrack be damned. But Amy and I had agreed we couldn’t tell anyone, so I had no choice but to change the subject.
“Yeah, well,you’vegotta be careful with these drinks,” I said, picking up the dented ball from earlier and lobbing it towards her empty cup. It bounced off the rim and away from us. “Even I need to switch to water now.”
“That’s because you’re a lightweight, big boy,” she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, and I felt my face flush.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” I said firmly, squaring up to give her a taste of her own medicine, but Amy and Lauren returned to save me from taking the bait. Lauren handed Chloe a cocktail identical to hers, complete with a bag of popping candy clipped to the side. Amy handed me something clear and fizzy with a slice of lime in it.
“It’s fizzy water,” she said in my ear, and I could have picked her up and ravished her right there on the table tennis table for sparing my liver. Instead, I settled for snaking my arm around her waist and kissing the top of her head, right at her part.
I stiffened slightly when I realised what I’d done– this definitely didn’t count as necessary PDA, and we’d been pretty good at avoiding that so far– but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she was smiling up at me when I caught her eye.
It wasn’t necessary, but maybe it wasn’t unwelcome either. At least, a man could hope.
* * *
Later that night,I was feeling smug about how well I was balancing everything. I’d come home and felt more energised than usual, and I decided to take advantage of Ethel being asleep to cook myself a nice meal. The arcade nachos hadn’t really done it for me, and I had some veg in the fridge that was on the verge of going bad.
