“Nonsense!” Anna leaps to her feet. “I’m exhausted, so I’m heading out, but Janie loves this movie. You guys should keep her company, okay? Nothing worse than watching your favorite movie alone, you know.”
Mr. Capulet’s mouth opens, then closes, as he probably tries to come up with an excuse.
Anna leads him over to the couch where I’m sitting next to Tag. She not-so-gently shoves him down.
This is a feat in itself, because Mr. Capulet is at least a foot taller than her, and insanely well-muscled, like Tag.
I gape in shock at my sister’s audacity, but she simply winks and saunters out of the room. A minute later, I hear the front door open and close.
I send an irritated glance over to Tag. It’s time for him to leave. Can’t he read the room? But instead of paying attention to my wordless, desperate hints, he intently stares at the TV screen.
Mr. Capulet and I share an uncomfortable look.
“Do you want me to stay?” Mr. Capulet asks.
I should say no and give him an easy out. But instead, I nod.
The tension in the room thickens, and I shiver.
“Cold?” Tag reaches for a blanket on his side of the couch.
“No, I’m fine.” I should send him home. I should send them both home. This is confusing—why would Mr. Capulet agree to stay?
When my phone buzzes inside my purse, Tag jumps up. “Want me to get it for you?”
“Sure.” I’m comfortable next to Mr. Capulet. If I move, he might move, and I don’t want that.
Tag goes to my purse, grabs my phone, and pauses before he turns around. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have looked.”
“Looked at what?”
Instead of responding, he gives me a predatory grin. When he hands me my phone, I nearly explode in flames of humiliation.
It’s a text from my sister. They both LIKE YOU like you. Go with it.
4
CHRISTOPHER
Maybe I’m a disgusting old pervert, but sitting on a couch next to Janie in a darkened room is hotter than any scene at Salt.
I’m not willing to leave. Janie’s “boyfriend” isn’t willing to leave, either. Asshole tried to scare me off with that lie, not realizing that I’ve noticed him in the dark corners at Salt, watching everything going on but never participating. If Janie were really his girl, she’d be there with him.
From my observations tonight, it seems they’re either exes, or he’s been trying to woo her and she’s not having it for whatever reason.
She seems to want him, though. When he isn’t looking, she stares at him. Her snarky responses to his attempts to talk to her—I think those are a defense mechanism.
She sits between us, looking tense. Her gaze is straight ahead on the movie playing in front of us, but she isn’t really seeing it.
Wanting to put her at ease, I rest my hand on her knee, over her skirt.
She looks down, surprised.
“Is this okay?” I ask, creeping under the fabric of her skirt to stroke my fingers over her skin.
When she nods, Tag puts his hand on her other knee. “How about this, sweetheart?”
She nods again, clears her throat. “Let’s, um, watch the movie.”
