Face burning, I answered his first question and said, "My number one goal is to make it out alive, but yeah. I guess not getting caught in a lie would be nice."
He shrugged. "Then I think we should practice."
"Practice what exactly?" I asked.
"Being together," Tolliver said.
I looked around the empty living room. "Aren't we doing that now?"
"That's not what I mean. As much as I love reading with you—and I do, Kent—we should get to know each other better, in different settings, before Saturday."
I frowned, and Tolliver shook his head with a smile.
"Okay," he said, "I can see you're not following."
"It feels like you're confusing me on purpose."
"I'm not, I promise."
"What other settings? What does that even?—"
"I want to take you out," Tolliver said.
No hesitation.
Confidence in every word.
The space around us went silent after his declaration. You could've heard a pin drop, and the more I stared at him, the more charged that silence felt. Tolliver's eyes were intent as he held my gaze.
"When you say 'take out,'" I repeated.
"Yeah," he said.
"That could mean a lot of things."
"It could."
"Do you mean 'take out' like a hitman or...like a date?"
Tolliver bit back a laugh. "The second one."
"Oh."
I felt hot all over, and when he squeezed my fingers, I realized he was still holding my hand.
"So, we'd be practicing for our fake date on Saturday?" I asked.
Tolliver was obviously trying not to laugh. "That's the idea."
"I...would be good with that."
"You sure?" he said.
"Yeah, it's a smart idea actually," I said, finally taking my hand back, putting some distance between us. "It would make the lie more believable. Good thinking."
"Mmm. Although, I did have another thought."
"What?"
