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“That should get them interested,” he tells me with a grin.
“Thanks. By the way, that was very sweet what you posted about me on Spill It! yesterday.”
He inclines his head. “I just said the truth.”
“Thanks. So…where are we going?”
He twists his mouth. “I’m trying to decide if I should tell you or surprise you.”
“Tell me,” I insist. “Please. Do I mentally need to prepare myself? Are you taking me to my doom?”
He chuckles. “Where exactly would your doom be?”
“The mall—unless it’s to a tech store. Anything sporty like the gym or rock climbing. IhatePE.”
He laughs again. “Who doesn’t?”
I scan his muscled chest and arms. “You seem to work out.”
“Yeah, I work out frequently, but that doesn’t mean I appreciate Coach Barrington blowing his whistle every thirty seconds.”
“Chloe’s dad is so annoying when he does that. But the worst part? He doesn’t give her or her best friends a break. He’s tough on us like he is on all the other students. So not fair.”
He lifts a brow. “Most people would call that nepotism.”
I groan. “I know that, but still. My body is not made for sports. It’s made to sit on my butt and code or read a book.”
“Mine is to code and game.”
And pretend to be popular. But I’m not going to bring that up. “You might sit on your butt all day, but youdowork out.”
He’s quiet as he drums his fingers on the steering wheel at a red light. Then he says, “Only because I have to. Getting up an extra hour before school starts isn’t easy.”
“You really do that? Wow. But you don’t play sports, right?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Was never into it. I wish I could sleep in, but all my years of building up this body will go down the drain.”
I glance away, suddenly uncomfortable that we’re talking about his body. His well-toned body. Why the heck do I care?
He’s quiet, too.
A little while later, he shifts and says, “Guess you’re not interested in where we’re going, huh?”
I face him with wide eyes. “You distracted me. Of course I want to know.”
He gestures to the building in front of us. “We’re here.”
“Bowling?”
“Yeah. Do you like to bowl?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve gone, but my friends and I used to come here all the time when we were younger.”
He scans my face. “I’m having a hard time deciding if you’re excited or appalled.”
“Why would I be appalled?”
He shrugs. “Vanessa would have been.”
