Suddenly, I’m racking my brain for a reason not to kiss her.
Rules, right?
“You know, you’re not as charming as you think you are, Jack.”
“No, I’m exactly as charming as I think I am. It’s working on you, isn’t it?”
She shrugs, taking another bite of her apple. Her house is just a street over now, and I’m not ready to say good night.
“Come on, you thought my costume was funny. You laughed.”
“I was being polite.”
“Bullshit.” I nudge my elbow against her as we turn onto her street. “You thought it was hilarious.”
Izzy rolls her eyes, but she’s fighting a smile. “Fine. It wasn’t bad.”
“I’ll take it.” I pull my fingers beneath the collar of my dumb costume, ready to get it off. “And for the record, you’re not as immune to me as you pretend to be.”
She falls back a step, forcing me to turn around to face her.
“Who said I was pretending? I think you’re annoying, cocky?—”
I stand toe to toe with her, peering down. “So earlier, when I put my hand on your hip and you froze, that was nothing?”
“I didn’t—” She stops herself, jaw tight. “We were dancing. You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” There’s a shake to my voice that I hate. “Because you’ve been looking at me all night like you’re trying to decide something.”
“Oh?” That tiny question comes out breathless.
Like whether you’re going to let me kiss you.
But I don’t say it. Instead, I lift my hand and gently tuck a curl behind her ear. I can’t stop staring at her lips. “Nothing. Forget it.”
She’s quiet for a minute, and when she speaks again, her voice is smaller. “I’m not good at this.”
“At what?”
Izzy shakes her head, but there’s something raw in her expression. “Doesn’t matter.”
My heart kicks hard. “Izzy?—”
She reaches for my hand, laces her fingers through mine, and tugs me forward. “It’s freezing. Come on.”
But she doesn’t let go the rest of the way. If anything, her grip gets tighter.
She picks up the candy bowl once we’re at her front door. I reach inside, pulling out a ghost treat bag stuffed with candy and crinkled colored paper. There’s a cute face drawn on each, with little pink circles for the cheeks.
“You made these?”
“Hmm? Oh yeah.” Izzy drops my hand to fish for her keys in her clutch. “Well,” she says, not looking at me as she unlocks the door, “no one’s watching now, so I guess we’re off the clock. You can go back to being annoying,and I’ll?—”
“How many did you make?” I interrupt, still stuck on how much time she must have sunk on making treat bags for the neighborhood kids.
“Just enough, I guess. Not too many left. Took me all night.”
I rub my hand over my face, trying to distract from the smile tugging at my lips.
