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No doubt it’s tingling in disgust. Like the creepy feeling that you get at the notion of a spider crawling up your spine.
I shiver.
“Hey.” Zack pauses outside the library door and takes my arm again to hold me back. “Are you okay?”
His low voice rumbles in my chest and sends a fresh ripple through me.
“I’m fine.”
“Because if you’re cold, we can—”
“I said I’m fine.”
His jaw ticks, and he keeps his gaze laser-focused on me for a few seconds longer. With a short nod, he releases my arm. “Well, okay then.”
I wriggle my arm as if that will erase the lingering warmth of his touch.
I need to change the subject. “It was nice to see your dad.”
If possible, Zack’s jaw clenches even tighter. “Yeah, well, he likes to be involved.”
“I remember. He was never far away from anything you were involved in back in high school.”
“Some habits are hard to break, I guess.”
It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about his dad. Of course, that only makes me want to talk about him more.
“I have to say…” A slow, knowing grin spreads across my lips. “The gray hair really suits your dad. It makes him… more distinguished. More debonair.”
“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. He can be a pain in the ass.”
“I don’t know. Your father is a self-made man. As a self-made woman, I can appreciate the grit and determination it takes to build an empire.”
“Let’s just find the fucking plaque and get this over with.”
I start at Zack’s suddenly clipped tone. In all the years I’ve known him—in all the years we’ve fought against each other—he’s always kept things playful. He’s never snapped at me.
My belly flutters and I have to sigh at myself. What is wrong with me that I find his terseness oddly appealing?
On our way through the empty library, I make a few notes of the scenery. It’s amazing how much it’s changed in the past decade. There are more computers and kiosks with touch screens. They’ve also obviously repainted somewhat recently.
But there’s still the unmistakable feeling that was always there. When the library was my home away from home.
We reach the back wall where the trophy case should be and frown in unison.
The case is gone. In its place, there’s a small sign that reads, “UNDER CONSTRUCTION! A new case is on its way courtesy of this year’s graduating class.”
“Well, shit.” Zack shoves his hands in his pockets. “I guess we’ll have to wait until our twenty-year reunion to settle this once and for all.”
“Or we could see if our scores are still somewhere online.”
“We could.” He casts me a sidelong look accompanied by his signature smirk. “But what would be the fun in that?”
Apparently, Zack is over his little tiff, or whatever that outburst of his was. I fight the urge to smile in response.
Instead, I offer him my hand to shake. “So we meet back here in ten years to settle this once and for all?”
His dark eyes light up and he takes my hand, setting my heart to racing. “It’s a date?”
