“Put some clothes on already,” I say, dramatically hiding my eyes.
“I am wearing clothes.” He sounds way too amused.
“Maybebeforeyou leave the room next time.”
“It’s my house, doofus.” He ruffles my hair as he steps past me to get a drink of water.
I shove one of the pints of ice cream into his chest without really looking at him. “Peace offering. You know. For losing.”
He snorts. “You’re insufferable.”
“Hey, at least I got you Rocky Road.”
He’s smiling in a way that knocks me off-kilter. Or rather,moreoff-kilter.
I step away.
“Mine is… something,” I say, forgetting the name of the ice cream already. Something with too many things in it. Chocolate chunks, caramel swirls, something neon. Holden will judge me for it in approximately three seconds.
Right on cue, he wrinkles his nose and snatches the carton from me, looking horrified. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s art,” I say, yanking open the drawer for some spoons. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“It looks like they dumped whatever was in their pantry into the mix.”
“Well, call me a trash panda then, because I’m gonna love it.”
He turns to lean against the counter, bare feet crossed at the ankles. As he pops his carton open, his gaze drifts to my arms. “You were impressive today.”
Dammit, I shouldn’t like the way he’s noticing me. “Thanks. I was just thinking I should come in more.”
“Yeah? Miss me that much, do you?”
I nudge him. “I misswinning.”
Holden really is relaxed today. Far more himself than he had been at the pizza parlor. Climbing must’ve loosened something in him. I always like the softness around his eyes when he’s like this.
We end up on the couch, and I tuck my feet under me, facing Holden. He puts a movie on, but dives right into conversation. After about twenty minutes, something howls on screen, and we both jerk our heads in that direction.
“Wait. There’s a dog in this?”
Holden laughs beside me. “Oh, sure, now you’re interested.”
“Hey!” I shove him. “I’m not the only one who likes dogs. You cried when Marley died.”
“That was different,” he shoots back immediately, expression softening at the mention of the wire-haired Schnauzer. “That dog had a whole, like… character arc in his personality.”
I grin. “Dude. I’m pretty sure it wasyouwho had a character arc. You went from ‘I don’t want a dog’ to ‘this is my emotional support animal’ in about two seconds.”
“I did not.”
“Yousodid. You fell in love with him so fast.”
He nudges my knee with his. “And yet, you’re still the one who named him.”
I tilt my head, glaring. “Because you were gonna name him Tank!”
“Tank is a strong name.”
