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“I’m happy to do it pro bono,” Hannah says, smiling sweetly.
“I bet you are.” He slings the towel over his shoulder. “Well, since you girls are going to be hanging around while the parents are out, you want to do something?”
For a moment, I think I’ve hallucinated.
Then I wait for him to say something crude and gross so we can roll our eyes at him and head back inside the house.
Hannah, ever the peacekeeper, gives him the benefit of the doubt and responds as if he’s making a serious suggestion. “Maybe. What did you have in mind?”
Landon shrugs, his gaze trained on me. “A movie?”
I blink, slowly coming to realize… heismaking a serious suggestion.
“I could do a movie.” Hannah looks over at me. “What do you think?”
I can’t form words. I’m still partially waiting for him to rip the rug out from beneath my feet as soon as I express interest.
Finally, I muster a few. “You mean,goto a movie, or…?”
“I figured we could watch something in the media room, but we can go out if you want.”
Oh my god, what?
I’m so confused.
“Personally, I would rather stay in,” Hannah says. “I know Anae is going out, and I doubt it’s to the movies, but I’d prefer not to run into her—especially looking like a third wheel. She doesn’t need more ammunition for her ‘jokes.’”
Landon cocks an eyebrow. “Anae tells jokes?”
“Not really. She’s just mean, and she thinks that makes her funny.”
Still not entirely trusting this, I say, “What would we watch?”
Maybe this is when he’ll say something mean and stupid or crude and taunting.
Instead, he shrugs. “We’ll find something.”
It doesn’t make sense in my brain, but… I think he’s serious.
“I should probably put on some clothes so Parker can pay attention to the movie,” he states, smirking. “Meet me in the media room. Bring popcorn.”
Flames erupt beneath my skin and heat my face, but Landon just turns and heads inside the house without another word.
Hannah’s eyebrows rise and she looks over at me. “Well, that was unexpected.”
“It sure was.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Parker
When we enter the media room with popcorn and drinks, I’m half-expecting it to be dark and empty.
It isn’t.
Landon isn’t standing outside his bedroom on the other side of the hall smirking at us for being stupid enough to think he really wanted to hang out with us.
He is spread out on one of the couches, having apparently made himself comfortable while he waited for us. His hair is still damp from swimming, but he’s wearing gray sweats and a white T-shirt.
