Page 45 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

Well, when you put it like that…

“If that’s the math.” I lift one shoulder again. “I didn’t come up with the idea of Hayes Games ’til high school, but Brandt and I started skipping out a few years before that, so yeah…thirteen-ish.”

“So then, wh⁠—”

She cuts herself off, snapping her mouth shut quickly. I know exactly what question she was about to ask. But I’m not going to answer it. Not unless she actually asks it.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

Brenna shakes her head, and even in dim light, I can see her cheeks start to tinge pink. It makes my dick stiffen, and I shift, trying to make sure she can’t feel that. I don’t want to be that guy. Can’t be that guy.

“Why now?”

I shift again, turning to face her. I’m still holding on to her legs, so I give her a gentle squeeze, hoping that she knows that I mean what I’m about to say.

“You.”

It’s the honest answer, but I can tell it still catches her off guard. She has no idea the effect she has on me. Which is probably a good thing. Nonetheless, her urge to push back on my answer is hovering just under the surface. I can see it trying to fight its way out, Brenna not bothering to hide it.

“You didn’t have to break your family tradition to take me on a pity date.”

Pity date? Is that what she thinks this is? Oh, Brenna…

I’m doing a shitty job if that’s what she’s thinking…

“I’ve never been on a pity date in my life. Don’t really do those.”

“That’s because no one would pity you.”

“Oh, shots fired!” I grab at my chest, right above my heart, pretending to be wounded.

“I mean it.”

“So do I. I’ve never been on a pity date. Whether I was the one being pitied or doing the pitying. Today was about spending the afternoon with a friend. And want to know a secret?”

“Always.”

“I had one of the best afternoons ever. Seriously. I had no idea it could be so much fun passing an egg back and forth between spoons that we were holding on to with our teeth.”

Brenna laughs, grabbing a piece of her stringy, egged-up hair. “We were oddly good at that.”

“If you think I was good at that, you should see what else I can do with my mouth.”

The smart-ass comment is out and floating in the air faster than I can rethink it. Although, I’m not sure if I do want to rethink it.

Brenna’s eyes go wide, her mouth opening slightly. My eyes land on those pretty pink lips, hovering there, waiting on a response. One that seems frozen in her. Like she wants to take my comment and raise me but is afraid to.

Which is perfectly fine. Because I know what I want. And I’m not afraid.

I’m going to lean in.

Lifting her legs, I stand up, holding my hand out. She slides hers into mine, giving me a wary look.

“I know just the thing to get you all cleaned up.”