Page 92 of Falling for Keeps

Carson

No, I won’t. How do you already know me so well?

Demi steps out of the bathroom and sidles right up to me. “Who put that cheesy grin on your face? If you say Seth, I’m dragging you home right now.”

“Where’s your new husband? Shouldn’t you be at his side?”

Demi grins, pushing back her short dark hair. “I’ll let it go. Are we hanging out this weekend?”

“Only if you’ll be at the barn raising.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Larry has a date with the Giants, I think.”

“Which is probably on Sunday…”

“Shhhh.” Demi laughs, bumping my shoulder with hers. “I don’t want to raise a barn. Maybe we’ll come to the dance.”

“You should.”

We walk separate directions. I’m heading beneath the bleachers to the steps when a shadowed man passes me, lightly gripping my hand.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, tugging free.

Carson keeps walking, and due to the momentum, I walk beside him. I look frantically for Demi but can’t see her anywhere.

“This isn’t covert at all, you know,” I say. “It’s a town function. The Ednas could be anywhere.”

“We’re friends, remember? We can grab something from my car together.”

I laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He shoots me a smirk and a side-eye. “You don’t have to come. Penny decided she wants the blanket she refused to carry in earlier.”

“If it’s for Penny, then how can I say no?”

“That’s my girl.” His words hammer through my chest, staking their claim and giving me a sense of belonging.

This is dangerous ground.

Once we’re near the parking lot, Carson reaches for my hand. I let him hold it for ten seconds before my nerves get the best of me and I pull free.

“Would you rather be responsible for the game-winning touchdown or have to eat a cicada? That’s the one Penny lobbed at me today.”

“You picked the game-winning touchdown.”

He laughs. “Maybe ten years ago I’d feel confident in that, but now I’m pretty rusty.” He grins. “But yeah, that’s what I chose.”

“Give me the cicada.”

“Gross, Emma.”

“I don’t need the town hating me when I lose us the homecoming game.”

“No one could hate you.” He looks at me while rummaging through his pocket for his key, then unlocks the car. “I’ve never seen your throwing arm.”

“It doesn’t exist. I have some mean page-turning fingers, though. Loads of practice.”

Carson pulls a blanket from the trunk, then closes it. “I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Probably college, because I had no choice.”