I shrugged. "I kept on driving."
This made her frown. "But you didn't even see me."
"How do you know?"
"Because I wasn't there."
"Maybe," I said. "But I saw enough."
Her eyes narrowed. "First off, there's no 'maybe.' I haven't been to that house in weeks, not even for a visit."
"Yeah, but I didn't know that."
"Okay, fine. But even if Iwasliving there, why would that bother you?"
I'd been more than bothered."Because I don't share."
"With who?" she demanded. "Party guests?"
"That's not it, and you know it."
"Do I?"
"It wasn't about the party," I said. "Orthe guests."
"So, whatwasit about?"
"It's aboutyouhiding us from your friends –orhiding someone else fromme."
"But for allyouknew, it was my sister's party."
"So?"
"So even if Iwereliving there, which I wasn't, it might've been something that didn't involve me at all. Maybe I didn't even know about the party. Likemaybeit was some sort of surprise."
"That's a lot of maybes," I said.
"Yeah, but I'm just saying, there's a ton of scenarios that wouldn't involve me at all."
"Fair point."
She made a sound of annoyance. "But…?"
I recalled the night of the party. It was the night after Lexie had been acting so strange, after she'd informed me that we weren't exclusive, after she'd made it clear that she would rather brave a snowstorm alone – at night no less – than get a ride home fromme.
In reply to her question, I said, "I wasn't feeling fair. I liked you. But like I said, I don't play games."
"I don't either," she said. "I mean, yeah, I should've told you where I was living, but it wasn't game-playing thing. It was…" She winced. "…more of a 'don't-want-to-look-like-a-loser' kind of thing."
I moved closer to say, "You're no loser."
"Yeah, well, I felt like one." She gave a quick shake of her head. "But wait a minute…you said youlikedme, as in past tense?"
This was a dangerous question – not because I didn't like her, but because liking wasn't all I felt. "Istilllike you." As I spoke, I looked deep into her eyes, those amazing eyes that had captured me from the start. In a low voice, I confessed, "And I've missed you more than you know."
Missing her – this wasn't like me. But there was something different about Lexie – something that made me think of her in the dead of night, something that made me smile when I should be frowning, something magnetic that made me want to pull her close and make up for lost time.
I was still lost in thought when she whispered, "I've missed you, too."
