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“I’ve never seen you blush in the sixteen years I’ve known you.”
I can’t argue that fact.
“Are you in love with him?” he asks in a quiet voice.
The heat travels from my neck to my face. Ignoring the question, I dribble the ball with the bat on the table.
“You are.” He adds in a disbelieving tone, “After only meeting him last night.”
I can’t deny it. He won’t buy the lie. If anyone knows me inside out, it’s Colin.
Dropping the bat, I turn to face him. “Maybe I am. So what?”
“So what?” He utters a laugh. “You don’t even know him.”
I frown. “You say it like you disapprove.”
“How can you fall in love without knowing the first thing about him?”
I stiffen. “I know plenty of things.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“He’s kind.”
He snort-laughs. “Is he?”
“Yes,” I say, my tone defensive. “He made my mom let me keep the cat.”
“How did he manage that anyway? Wait. How did he know you wanted a cat?”
“He didn’t. I found the cat in a trashcan and took it home. When my mom saw it, she wanted to take it to the SPCA, but Angelo happened to be there, and he told her he gave me the cat for my birthday.”
“And she agreed? Just like that?”
“Yes.” I brush my hands over my shorts. “Their business must be really important to my dad.”
He glances toward the horizon and back at me. “He lied and then manipulated your mom into letting you have a cat. You base your feelings on that?”
“Why not?” I say, irritation bubbling up inside me. “He didn’t lie with bad intentions. It was only to help me.”
Chuckling, he tips back the can and takes a long drink. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he says with a wry expression, “Because of him you finally have a cat, and I wrote you a stupid fucking ballade.”
“It’s not stupid.” When he raises a brow, meeting my gaze with a challenge in his, I add quickly, “Okay, you have to be honest, the situation was weird. That’s not our dynamic.”
“No?” He searches my face. “It could be.”
I walk to his chair and poke him in the chest. “You’re my friend, my best buddy.”
He squints up at me. “Exactly. We know each other’s faults and weaknesses. I know you hate avo and that you mash bananas on your peanut butter toast. We’re perfectly suited. Everyone says we make the handsomest couple in town. We’re both high achievers and good sportsmen. They all think we’re going to end up together. Why shouldn’t we?”
“There’s no spark,” I say, raising my palms and lifting my shoulders.
“Sparks are overrated. I think friendship is much more important.”
Propping my hands on my hips, I scrutinize him through narrowed eyes. “This is all because of this morning. My mom put you up to that. The ballade was her idea. Admit it.”
He scoffs. When I don’t budge, he cuts his gaze toward the pool. “She may have mentioned that they’d gotten you a piano for your birthday and that, since you don’t play, a little performance would be a nice gift.”
“I knew it,” I say with a measure of triumph and relief. “I’m so embarrassed about her meddling. I’m really sorry she’s like that.”
“Gah.” He waves a hand. “It’s nothing.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “You don’t have to apologize.”
I straddle the chair, facing him. “Are we seriously having this conversation? I don’t want things to get awkward between us.”
He tips back the can and drinks, pretending to look at the ocean.
“Because you’re my only real friend.” I make a puppy face. “My best buddy.” Dipping my head, I catch his gaze and say in my pouty voice, “My buddy bear. My cuddly pooh.”
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips even though he tries hard to keep a serious face. He gives me a gentle shove. “Okay, okay. I get it.”
Laughing, I lean back with my weight supported on my arms and tickle his side with my toes. “Come on. Smile. You know you want to.”
He pushes my foot away, but his features soften as his resolve crumbles. He’s never been good at pretending to be angry. “So you want sparks, huh?”
I let out a dreamy sigh. “Yep.”
“If your parents don’t want you to see this guy, what are you going to do? Anyway, your mom mentioned that he lives abroad. Corsica, right?”
“Right.” I bite my lip, considering how honest to be, but Colin is my bestie, and I trust him. He won’t tattletale on me to my parents. “I gave him my number.”
“Have you heard from him?”
My chest tightens as I admit, “Not yet.”
Caution slips into his voice. “Say you do hear from him. Then what?”
“Then we’re going to text and talk on the phone. Isn’t that why you give someone your number?”
