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“All right.” She changed direction and headed for my car.
“I liked that trick back there,” I said, forcing the nonchalance.
“Which one?” she asked, equally as nonchalant.
“The one to help Carter find his sack.”
“I swear that had nothing to do with me. I think you broke Hadley’s heart, though,” she said as we got into the car.
I smiled and we closed our doors at the same time. “Tell her I’ll drive you both on Saturday if it makes her happy.”
“You? Go to a party and not drink?” she said sarcastically as she plugged her music into the car.
I looked at the controls like that would stop the music playing when I turned the car on. No such luck. I turned my glare on her.
“The things I fucking do for you,” I said, actually not giving a shit at all.
“Eh, you love me,” she said like it was nothing but pure fact, and my heart jolted in my chest.
Fucking traitor.
“I certainly don’t hate you,” I answered.
“What a glowing review,” she laughed.
“Well, I’m hardly going to agree. What sort of message would that give you?”
“Okay,” she chuckled. “I will give you this one chance to say anything to me. A totally off the cuff remark which I will take purely at face value.”
One thing? There were a lot of things I wanted to say to her. Some of them sexual. Most of them inadvisable for completely different reasons. But if we were going to play this game, I wasn’t the only one who was going to play it.
“Okay. One thing. Each. Anything. Total face value. And we never speak of it again?”
She didn’t disagree. “Sure.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it?” she sassed.
“Shut up, I’m thinking.”
“All right, take your time. You don’t want to break anything.”
I didn’t, but thinking wasn’t going to be the thing that did the breaking. I had one chance here. She might not have realised, but this was a test. A test I needed to pass. There wasn’t really a right or wrong answer, I knew that, but there were good and bad answers.
I gave a rough laugh. “Face value? Then, I do kind of love you.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “I kind of love you, too.”
My heart jolted again, and I knew she meant it. But I had to diffuse some of the tension threatening to overwhelm me.
“Oh, now that’s just copying. Boo! Get your own material, Barlow,” I joked as I took her hand.
She laughed. “Fine. That not good enough for you? How’s this; I love that… ‘You say it best, when you say nothing at all’!” she sang along with the song.
Like her previous statement, I knew she meant it. I knew us well enough that I knew she meant it. Just because she’d given us both a laugh didn’t mean the sentiment was any less true.
I laughed, warm and open, and felt lighter than I usually did. “You’re a total loon.”
