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He doesn’t include me on the list, I notice. Probably because Sydney has no reason to think anything Holden does or doesn’t do would involve me. But I read into it anyway.
Holden pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen. “See you guys later,” he says, grabbing his Gatorade and leaving the kitchen.
I’m sitting on the couch, alone, almost as far away as possible from Sydney and Graham’s whispering, when Holden walks back downstairs. It’s been total silence upstairs since he left the kitchen a couple of hours ago. Part of me was wondering if he went out after all, without saying anything.
Based on how disheveled his hair is, I think he was sleeping. He runs his hand through it again as he approaches the couch, smoothing some of the disarray.
Holden grins when he sees how I’m huddled at one end of the couch, then plops down right beside me, so close our arms brush. My cheeks flare pink, and I hope it’s dark enough in here he can’t tell.
All I can think about is the last time the two of us were on this couch together.
“What are you guys watching?” he whispers to me.
“I forget,” I reply. “One of the goblin movies?”
He glances at me, one corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. “Lord of the Rings?”
“I guess? I didn’t pick it. Graham would know.” I glance toward the kitchen. “He and Sydney paused the movie a couple of minutes ago to make popcorn.”
“Ah.” He leans back, getting comfortable. I resist the urge to lean closer. We agreed to sex, not snuggling.
When I glance over, he’s looking at me. It’s a searching gaze. He’s looking at me like it’s the first time he’s seeing me.
“Hi,” I whisper.
He smiles. “Hi.”
“Congrats. I saw you won.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” His fingers weave through the ends of my hair, combing through the strands falling across his shoulder. I tilt my head, allowing him more access.
I want to ask him why he’s here. What made him decide to stay home instead of going to a party tonight like usual. But I’m worried it might fracture this moment, might not be an answer I’m hoping for, so I stay silent.
“You ever been to a game?”
I scan his expression, trying to read the subtext of his question in the curves and angles of his face. “Last season, I went to a couple.”
All I get in response is a vague hum. Was that his way of asking me to come? I know Sydney goes to the ones she can, but I’ve always avoided them, aside from the few times she begged me to join.
The two I went to last season were uncomfortable for me. I already admitted I associate him with the sport. Connecting the lines between that and me not going seems simple, but he still asked.
“Are you cold?” Before I can answer, Holden is pulling an afghan off the back of the couch and draping it over my legs.
I wasn’t cold, but the weight of the soft blanket feels nice.
“Um, thanks.”
“Uh-huh.” There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes, a glint that makes my heart race.
Sydney walks out of the kitchen holding a big bowl of popcorn, with Graham right behind her.
Surprisingly, neither of them comment on Holden’s appearance or seem to notice how close we’re sitting together. Graham greets Holden with a nervous smile. I guess the threat I overheard is still fresh in his mind.
Sydney and Graham settle back on the couch, and the movie starts to play again. I relax back against the cushions, shifting a little closer to Holden and hoping Sydney doesn’t notice. She seems totally wrapped up in Graham, giggling at something he’s showing her on his phone. I’m happy for her. Slightly resentful they picked a fantasy film and aren’t even watching it. There’s an African cats documentary I’ve been dying to watch.
A warm hand settles on my thigh, and thoughts of television selections are suddenly irrelevant.
I tense, then glance at Holden. He appears focused on the screen, but one corner of his mouth is lifted.
