Page 142 of On His Team

“I asked why they keep saying they have a connection after talking for twelve minutes.”

“That’s part of the show.”

“It’s stupid.”

“And yet?”

He gestures toward the couch.

I smile. “I am always down to watch Love Island.”

We take the food on the couch. He sits at one end. I sit at the other, but it’s not much distance. It lasts for almost an entire minute. Then I move closer because pretending I invited him here to maintain three feet of respectful distance would be stupid. My feet end up underneath his thigh, and then we eat.

I don’t know what to make of this because nothing happens. Rowan doesn’t start touching me the second we’re alone. He doesn’t treat my text about the thing between his legs like a binding contract. He eats his burger, watches a man named Luca explain that he has found something special with a woman he met yesterday, and shakes his head.

“No way. He doesn’t like her.”

I make a face. “How do you know?”

“He hasn’t listened to anything she said.”

“You’ve watched them for six minutes.”

“He asked her twice where she grew up.”

I stop chewing. “That is actually a good point.”

Rowan looks smug. “He’s not listening.”

“Okay, relationship expert.”

He laughs. “I didn’t say I was an expert.”

“You dated a girl in high school.”

His head turns. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” I smile. “You just confirmed it.”

He stares at me, and I start laughing.

“You got me. You could’ve asked.” He shakes his head and eats another fry off my plate.

I smack his hand. “Those are mine.”

We make it through half the episode before either of us remembers we could be doing anything else. That might be my favorite part of the entire night. Not because I don’t want him. I do. I am extremely aware of his leg under mine. Of his hand resting near my ankle. Of the fact that we are alone and my bedroom is approximately fourteen steps away. But he came here and brought me food. Then he sat down to watch TV. He wants to be here. The thought settles somewhere deep enough that I don’t touch it too much.

During an ad, I look over at him. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

Rowan stops chewing.

“The worst?”

I nod.

He considers that.

I wait for something dramatic.