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“Can you give Cassia a ride?” she asks me.
I stiffen. It’s obvious Sydney wants to be alone with Graham. But I assumed Cassia had driven here herself or came with Harrison.
“I drove,” Harrison states. “I don’t mind dropping you off.”
Cassia smiles at him. My jaw clenches. Tightly enough, it’s painful despite how numb my face is, thanks to the outside temperature.
“Thanks for offering, but Holden is right across the street. I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”
It’s obvious to everyone Harrison wouldn’t consider it to be any sort of inconvenience, but Cassia turns and walks toward me before he can say a word. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
She chose me over him.
I’m not expecting for that to matter to me the way it does. There are plenty of girls who have ignored other guys in favor of getting my attention, as arrogant as that sounds. In the past, I’vefound it amusing or irritating, depending on my mood. It’s never incited this warm feeling in my chest before.
I say goodbye to the guys and give Graham a glare that conveys Sydney better make it home safely. It’s a ten-minute drive to our house from Fellini’s, so I’ll know if he makes any detours.
Cassia follows me down the street toward my truck. The farther we get from our friends, the tenser the silence between us becomes. The easier it is to imagine we were just the ones having dinner together.
I make it one block before glancing at her. Cassia’s arms are wrapped around her midsection. She’s wearing a sweatshirt but no jacket over it.
Impulsively, I shrug mine off. It’s my letterman jacket, which I hardly ever wear. We’re supposed to have them on for game days, though, so I grabbed it from my locker after I showered. It’s not that warm, but better than nothing.
Without saying a word, I drape it over her shoulders. She looks over at me, then sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. It’s the worst possible thing she could do because I can’t think about anything except seeing her do that same thing when I was buried inside her.
“Thanks.”
I nod as we continue walking.
“You’re acting weird.”
An involuntary smile tugs at my lips as she parrots the words I told her last week on my front porch. “I’m just…we’re playing a rival tomorrow.”
“I know. Covington, right?”
I glance at her, surprised. “How did you know?”
She shrugs, tugging my jacket closer around her. It looks good on her. Really good. I look down at the sidewalk, trying to think about something else.
“My dad follows the team pretty closely,” Cassia says after a beat of silence. “It’s sort of our thing, if I’m up before he leaves for work. Sometimes I feel guilty for not playing in high school. I guess it’s my way of making up for it.”
I hesitate before speaking. For one, I’m processing the fact that Cassia and her father follow my team. That it’s theirthing. Also, the last time the topic of her not playing high school ball came up, it wasn’t exactly a relaxed conversation. I’m treading carefully.
“I’m sure your dad wouldn’t want you to feel guilty,” I finally say. “If you didn’t want to play, you didn’t want to play.”
“I started playing because of you,” she states. “So…in high school…there didn’t seem like much of a point anymore.”
I steal a glance at her. Cassia is staring straight ahead, obviously not interested in discussing the topic any further.
“You’re not in a big rush to get back, right?” she asks.
“Uh…” I’m not sure how to answer. I was in a hurry to leave Fellini’s. Now that it’s just the two of us, I have no sense of urgency, honestly.
“I kind of want a waffle.”
“You and Baker didn’t split a dessert?” I huff a breath as soon as the question is out, thoroughly annoyed with myself for bringing him up.
