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Which isdifferent.
Up until today, George didn’t want to look at me. She didn’t want to talk to me. She didn’t want to laugh at my jokes or breathe the same air as me.
But suddenly, tonight, she’s looking. Because I accidentally put my hand on her?
And despite what she might have thought, itwasan accident.
I’d gone in to help, period. But the hallway wasn’t that big, and I kind of am. Shit, I didn’t want to knock her over when I leaned past her.
But then she pointed it out. And there it was, my hand at the small of her back, like itbelongedthere. It threw me enough that even then, it didn’t occur to me to move it. That’s how right it felt.
And maybe it felt right to her too. Maybe that’s why she’s suddenly looking at me with questions in her eyes instead of straight-up loathing.
Maybeit’s time I let the physical connection do some of the heavy lifting here. Instead of shutting that shit down because I’m trying to make sure she knows I’m interested inherand not just some dirty hookup.
So I give her the smile that’s been begging to come out and play every time I see her. The one that’s not friendly at all. The one that swears I’m about to give her the time of her life.
And yeah, that startled stare, the soft parting of her lips on a gasp I can feel but not hear… Yup, that one says that smile landed just right.
Chapter 8
George
Okay, what the heck was that?
That dirty, all-mischief smile with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
That smile is new. That smile is disconcerting on a level I don’t quite know how to deal with. And something tells me, that smile is just the beginning. Which is why I sped out of that backyard an hour ago and have been hiding in Nat’s bedroom with her ever since.
We’re propped up against the headboard together watching tape from the girls’ first game.
“See, this move right here from Anita?” she says, pointing down to the tablet between us. “That pass is where we should have had them.”
“Yep, it opened up the play, but Chelsea wanted the point. Didn’t even notice Shayna falling into position.”
“That was a pretty goodlookthough, another inch to the right and that puck would have been in the net.” she says, closing out the footage.
I hum my agreement, checking out the pictures and knickknacks that have accumulated in this space since she moved in.
So much love. There’s evidence of it everywhere.
I point to the picture of her and Vaughn in a heart-shaped frame, their smiles so wide it’s nearly blinding. “New?”
She nods, getting that dopey smile on her face that I seriously never thought I would see Natalie Baxter wearing.
“Quinn took it a few weeks ago when we were down at the lake. I didn’t even see it at the time, but then last week, he gave it to me out of nowhere. It was all wrapped up in frilly paper with the bow and everything.” She laughs at the side-eye I give her and holds up her hands. “Hey, you’re the one who asked about it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I am. And now I have another question about the guy I don’t want to be thinking about at all. “Why would he do that?”
“Okay, I know he’s got a player past. But seriously, I think he’s kind of a romantic at heart.”
I hop off the bed like I’m dodging oncoming traffic. Turn to my best friend in the world and gape. “Are you… trying to sell me on this guy?”
“No! It’s just that maybe… even if he used to be some epic dick… what if he’s not the same guy anymore?”
The bedroom door swings open and Vaughn pokes his head in, sees the tablet Nat is subtly trying to push aside, and throws up his hands. “Allie, baby, tell meyou did notwatch the game without me.”
She pulls a face that’s guilty and apologetic, and has me heading for the door as Vaughn walks in. “I’m sorry!” She squeals when he catches her up against him. “I got the email that it was ready and—”
