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The lasagna churns a little in my stomach when I realize that he doesn’t ask me to clarify who Hailey is.
I drop the garlic bread and fix a smile on my face. “She was calling to see if that whole kiss disaster was for real.”
He slowly sets his wineglass back down. “And what did you tell her?”
“The truth.” I lift my shoulders and let them drop. “That it was nothing. Just a misplaced attempt to best each other.”
Andrew crosses his arms. “Why would she care?”
I roll my eyes. “For someone who was a boy genius, you can kind of be a dolt sometimes. She likes you.”
Andrew leans forward, elbows on the counter, studying me. “And how do you feel about that?”
I swallow. It’s the most direct he’s ever been, the first opening he’s ever given me to take the first step. To say that maybe we could be more than frenemies.
I open my mouth to tell him that I feel wretched about the thought of him with Hailey. That the thought of them holding hands and kissing and him taking care of her when she’s sick makes me want to barf up all the delicious lasagna.
But then I picture how he’d react if I said that. I picture that unsmiling, sometimes unfriendly face not responding even the tiniest bit to my announcement…so I take the safe route.
“I think she’d be the perfect girl for you,” I say quietly.
The worst thing is, some part of me means it, even as the other part wants to tell him that he needs someone messy and ridiculous to help him not take everything so seriously.
“You do?” he says.
I smile and nod. “Yup. She’s going to ask you to go to a fundraiser next week, and for the love of God, don’t be a stiff about it.”
Andrew stands up straight, starts to pick up his wineglass, then instead shoves his hands into his pockets. He’s always hard to read, but he’s an especially blank slate right now.
“Or you could ask her out sooner,” I say, my voice sounding manic and crazy. “I bet she’s free tomorrow.”
What are you doing, Georgie?
I ignore my subconscious, charging ahead in a futile hope that maybe the sooner I see him with someone else, the sooner I’ll banish the futile hope that he might want to be with me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I continue. “She told me you’ve already texted her, so it won’t be that hard to keep doing it.”
I hold my breath just a little, wanting him to deny it. To tell me that he hasn’t been texting Hailey while I’ve never gotten a single text or call from him.
No, you moron. No text, just flowers, and soup, and a cuddle, and lasagna, and…
“All right,” he says, interrupting my thoughts before my still-slow brain can put all the pieces together.
“All right what?”
He shrugs. “I’ll ask her out.”
My face feels like it cracks when I smile. Not unlike what it feels like my heart is doing.
“Awesome,” I say, shoveling another bite of lasagna into my mouth, even though I’m borderline queasy. “Want any help figuring out what to say?”
“Believe it or not, I’ve asked a woman on a date before.”
I lift my eyebrows in challenge, and his gaze goes angry. He pulls his phone out of his pocket.
Before I can regret my impulse to call his bluff, his fingers move quickly across the screen before holding it up. “There. I asked out your friend. Happy?”
No. So not happy. Not even close.
