“That guy was a complete dick,” Alex confirms. “Ok, back to the pressing matter at hand.” She turns to me. “Are you gonna blow another chance or make your move?”
I roll my gaze to hers, but she only smiles. “You’ve been with Mark too long.”
“Nah. Forever won’t be long enough.” She grins, so obnoxiously in love with that guy, it’s sickening. “You know, he showed me it’s easier to be scaredwithsomeone than try to fight it alone.”
I’d like to clap back and tell her I’m not scared, but I am, and she knows it. “Calm down. She just wants to be friends.” I’m beginning to loathe that word.
Sarah made it perfectly clear that friendship is all she sees, but I’ve spent time thinking about it. I don’t know if that’s because she’s not interested in us being more or if it’s because I’m not giving her anything other than closed-off friend vibes.
I’m annoyed at not knowing which it is. But to find out, I have to take a big risk, and I have to decide if I’m ready for that.
I watch Sarah’s head fall back in laughter at something Katrina said. My gut squeezes tight. I want to be the one to make her laugh like that, but I stood tongue-tied like a teenage boy when the prettiest girl in school finally noticed me.
After she stopped at the shop this week, I unraveled the pile she left on my desk. Written across the gold-trimmed ribbon were large letters that spelled out Miss USA. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised. I can picture Sarah commanding a stage and being the most beautiful one up there, but not because of her amazing body. She has tenacity but also a graceful grit that’s captivating. You can’t look away. And it’s intimidating as hell.
Trig says something, and the table erupts.
“Come on. Just go talk to her, you big lug.” Alex bumps me with her shoulder.
“She tried to talk to him at the bar, but he was Stone Colding. Big time.” Krissy sips her wine. “She’s probably getting tired of his grumpy-standoffish shit. I know I would.”
“It’s the dress,” Trig says. “When a woman wears a dress like that . . .” He whistles, and I want to punch his lights out so he can never look at her again.
Carson takes a swig of his beer. “And then some douche tried to hit on her.”
“Did you all take a video, too?” I groan.
“Nooooo, but now that you mention it, we should have,” Krissy whines. “Then we could’ve had a lip reader translate it so we’d really know what was going on.”
“It did look kind of intense,” Wind says.
Alex leans on the table. “Intense in a good way?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I stand, and they laugh, having the time of their life. “I’m going to the bathroom, then heading home.”
“I gotta get going, too,” Alex says. “The girls need to get to bed if they’ll survive game day without meltdowns.”
“You could leave them with me,” Krissy says.
I leave them to sort out plans.
I think about Sarah telling Macavoy Junior she was hitting on me. My heart grew three sizes. That didn’t feel like just being friendly, and I liked it—claiming her, if only pretending for those few minutes. Just the fact that she came over to talk to me, even though I’d once again left her high and dry after she was vulnerable.
But Alex is right. I have to get my head out of my terrified ass if I want a chance at whatever could be with Sarah. And I’d really like to know what could be.
I tug open the bathroom door, and Sarah is tucked in the dim hallway, scrolling her phone.
“Hey.”
Her head pops up. “Hey.”
“What are you doing?”
“I. . .uh.” She glances at her phone, and then her shoulders drop. “Ordering an Uber.” Her hands fall to her sides. “I rode with Kat, but she had a bad day and drank a little too much, so Seth took her home. I’m not asking anyone else—”
“I’m taking you home.” I step past her. This is an opportunity I will not screw up.
“No.” She grabs my arm. “You’re here with your friends. I have to get Ollie and Frankie in bed. You should stay.”
