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“Why are you good at this?” Elizabeth asked.
“Being good at things I have no right to be good at is part of my charm.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Maybe, but I was great on the debate team in high school. You might lose that argument.”
We headed to the back of the studio where a table with crinkly bags of snack food and lukewarm sodas were set up for the crew. I grabbed a warm Sprite and some pretzels, taking a seat. Elizabeth gave it a disapproving look and sat without touching any of it.
“Debate team, really?” she asked.
“Oh yeah. I actually only did it because I had a crush on the debate teacher. She was twenty-two, fresh out of college, nerdy but kinda hot.” I shrugged. “Terrible kisser, though.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t!”
I grinned. “You’re right, I just heard a rumor. Apparently, she didn’t have a thing for sixteen-year-olds.”
“What else did you do in high school?”
I popped a pretzel in my mouth. “I like this sudden interest in my past. Does this mean we’re getting somewhere?”
“We’re sharing a room, Barry,” she said, looking around to make sure nobody was nearby. “We slept together. I fell asleep cuddling on you. What do you think?”
“I think I like hearing the recap from your lips. Although it’d be more fun if you called it what it was. We fucked.” I chewed another pretzel, enjoying her discomfort.
“You are changing the subject. What were you like in high school? What did you do?”
I shrugged. “Football, debate team, parties, that kind of stuff.”
“Yeah, the totally normal trio of football, debate, and partying.”
“Let me guess, you were in every conceivable club, got straight A’s, never stepped out of line, and all your teachers loved you?”
“My chemistry teacher didn’t love me.” She smiled a little at that. “And I quit drama club because I was a terrible actress.”
“Any high school sweethearts?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks went red. “No.”
“Seriously? Did you have a major glow up after high school or something? You must’ve been beating guys off with a stick.”
“I wasn’t beating guys off. Period.”
I frowned, replayed our last few words, then laughed. “Clearly.”
“You’re so mature,” she said, but she was smiling a little. “But no, I think I scared them.”
“Good thing I don’t scare easily, I guess. It means I get to have all the fun with you they miss out on.”
“You really think I’m fun?”
“Oh, absolutely. You’re fun in your own sort of way.”
She scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I like seeing you get worked up so easily. I also like seeing you kick ass when you’re focused. It’s fun seeing how much my pets freak you out, too. And, if you’ll pardon the sentimentality, I’ve got to say I never thought I would enjoy a cuddle session as much as I enjoyed last night. That was some prime cuddling.”
Her cheeks went even more red. “Well, thank you.”
We both shared a smile, and a big, nasty bubble of guilt popped up the surface to ruin the moment for me. Damn it. “Lizz…” I said.
She leaned forward slightly, having to sit straight to see me over the pile of snacks.
“There’s something I need to get off my chest,” I said.
She started breathing faster.
I took a second to find the right words, then she reached her hand over a bag of chips and grabbed mine. “No. I want to go first.” She took another deep, chest-inflating breath, then locked her eyes on mine. “I’ve pretended this whole thing is one-sided, and I’m sorry I keep making you be the one to take steps forward. I like you, Travis. I really do. Honestly, I don’t even know if like is a strong enough word. Because if I just liked something, I could probably stand to walk away from it if every logical bone in my body was telling me to. With you, I can’t make myself stop. I keep wanting just another conversation or another moment of your attention. And I still think this is some kind of test by Mrs. Glass, but I realized I might not even care. I want to see where this goes. It’s like—” She bit her lip, then laughed. “And I’m rambling like a crazy woman. I’m sorry.”
Shit. If there was ever a bad time to confess you’re secretly trying to bring down your girlfriend’s boss and potentially jeopardize the career she has spent her whole life working towards, it wasn’t right after that.
“You already know how I feel,” I said.
“Do I?” she asked.
I fought back the urge to still push forward and say what I’d really been about to say, but another day wouldn’t change anything. I could tell her tomorrow. Maybe even later tonight.
“Imagine a guy climbs into a lion cage. The lion mauls him a little, growls, maybe even smacks him across the face with those huge paws. Then the guy refuses to leave the cage, even if it means he’s going to get beat up a few more times. Would it be pretty safe to assume the guy likes the lion?”
