“But foryou—” I caught Harper’s eyes and held them, letting my grin go a little softer, “—I’ll be on my absolute best behavior. Scout’s honor.”
Something moved across her face. Not quite the eye-roll I’d expected. Something warmer, more involuntary—she pressed her lips together like she was trying to contain it, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her and curved up anyway. Her free hand lifted slightly and tucked that loose strand of hair back behind her ear.
“You were not a scout,” she said.
“Spiritually,” I said. “The spirit of scouting lives in me.”
That did it. She laughed—a real one, brief and unguarded, her chin dipping slightly as it escaped, the kind of laugh someone makes when they didn’t quite mean to. It lit up her whole face in the half-second it lasted, and the faint warmth that crossed her cheeks afterward had nothing to do with the summer air.
She recovered quickly. Composed herself with a small breath and aimed that composed, deliberate look back at me, though the corner of her smile hadn’t entirely retreated.
“Well.” Her thumb turned her own champagne glass slowly—once, twice. “If you manage to make people cry thegoodkind of tears up there tonight...” She tilted her head, just slightly, the lamplight catching the delicate angle of her jaw, “...I might save you a dance later.” She said it like it was easy. Like it was a throwaway. But she held eye contact for exactly one beat longer than necessary before she broke it. “No promises,” she added—and then she turned and walked back into the warmth of the crowd, unhurried, the loose wildflower threatening to fall from her hair with every step.
I watched her go. I couldn’t have told you for how long.
Levi cleared his throat.
I took a slow sip of my beer.
“So,” he said, in the voice of a man exercising enormous restraint. “For someone who’s allegedlytoo busy being charming?—”
“She offered me a dance,” I said mildly. “I’m simply processing the information.”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m observing. There’s a distinction.”
Levi looked at Becca. Becca looked at Levi. Some silent marital communication passed between them that I was fairly certain was at my expense.
“Careful,” Levi said, turning back to me with a grin he couldn’t fully disguise. “That one’s smarter than you.”
“Obviously,” I said. “That’s half the problem.”
I glanced back toward the crowd—toward where Harper had disappeared into the warmth of the house.
Levi clapped me on the shoulder once, firm and warm, the way he used to when we were kids, and he was trying to tell me something without saying it.
“A man can dream, brother,” he said.
I smiled at nothing in particular, at the string lights and the chaos of the night and the specific, yet completely unresolved feeling of something that hadn’t started…yet.
“Yeah,” I said. “He really can.”
