“I don’t.”
He raises his eyebrows, leaning back, and Wren snorts. “Scar. Seriously?”
I sigh. “You can hold my hand, but that’s it.”
“Whatever.” He kisses me on the cheek anyway, and I can’t help but smile. “I can’t believe you convinced me to dress up for this party,” he whispers when Wren slips away.
“And by dress up, you mean wearing a T-shirt instead of a shirt and tie. Huge improvement,” I argue, turning to him. He huffs, and I laugh at his bitter attitude. He’s wearing jeans for once, and the ‘Suck My Pianist’ shirt that he put up a fuss about wearing. Mostly because he didn’t want it back after I’ve been borrowing it for months now. “You look good, baby. Stop pretending you hate it.”
A dimple flashes on his cheek, and he hooks his finger into the belt loop on my skirt, tugging me into him. I loop my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to whisper, “You better get going for Ken’s surprise.”
“The camera I got her wasn’t surprise enough?” he asks.
Honestly, I thinkIwas the one who cried when Evan turned up to Ken’s pre-birthday dinner with a vintage camera that used to belong to his dad. She almost suffocated him by how hard she was hugging him, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen Kennedy this happy. I just know the other surprise for tonight is going to be the cherry on top.
“Unfortunately not,” I say, ushering him back out the door. “Just get her gift here in one piece.”
He rolls his eyes. “You owe me for this.”
“I know.”
I turn back to the party, doing what I can to make sure it stays under control until Evan comes back. Wren is frantically trying to turn down the music, but she can’t help but sing along when another pop song bursts out at full volume. Part of me wants to go and help her, but watching her try to tame the crowd is prime entertainment. Miles knows this too because he stands beside me in the kitchen, shaking his head at his girlfriend. But when I join in, I slowly realize he’s turned to me and started smiling at me instead.
“Can I help you?” I ask, busying myself with making more punch.
He’s dressed up as a cowboy because it’s Wren’s favorite type of fictional boyfriend, and it’s clear he will do literally anything she says. “Scarlett Voss.” He whistles, shaking his head. “I truly never thought I’d see the day when you’re in love.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I mutter. We both know I’m lying, but Miles will take any opportunity to tease me when it comes to Evan.
He pokes me in the arm. “Dude, I already know you’ve been dating. You don’t have to keep pretending that you hate him.”
“I have to keep up appearances somehow.”
“You’ve hardly left his side all night,” he guffaws, pointing in my face for extra effect. “Your lady parts are singing for him.”
“Ew. Shut up,” I say, even though there’s no use. My face feels hot, and I can tell my chest is flushed without having to look down.
“I’m not going to until you admit that you want to spend the rest of your life with him and have a thousand blond babies,” Miles says, holding his chin high, as smug as ever. He pokes hisfinger into my cheek, and I push him away, but I can’t help but laugh. “See how your cheeks get hot every time I say his name.”
“Stop it,” I warn, and this idiot keeps grinning at me like an absolute loon.
“Scarlett and Evan sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” he singsongs, getting all up in my face. “First comes—”
“You are such a man-child. I will hire someone to murder you, and I can make it look like an accident,” I say as menacingly as I can. I have no idea how Wren puts up with him on a daily basis because I’mthisclose to snapping his arms in two. Yes, his bicep is the size of my head, but that doesn’t mean anything. I could do it if I really wanted to.
“Hey, Scar! I—” Kennedy’s voice comes into focus, and she slides into the kitchen in her costume, but she stops short when she sees the way I’ve basically got a knife to Miles’s throat. “What is going on here?”
Miles steps out from beside me, and he slings his arm over my shoulder. “Just two best friends being best friends doing best friend things.”
I remove his arm from me like he might give me a disease, and groan. “We’re not best friends, Miles.”
“Yeah, we are,” Miles says, slowly backing away from me. “And we’re best friends, too. Aren’t we, Kenny?”
Kennedy bursts out laughing and with an eye roll says, “Sure, Miles. We’re best friends.” He gives us both the dorkiest thumbs-up before walking out of the kitchen to save Wren.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, trying to brush off every mushy feeling I get just thinking about Evan.
Kennedy grins. “You know what . . . It is.” She exhales deeply, her eyes twinkling. “I’m so happy for you.”
