He’s noticed Noah, but some people are still lingering in front of Evie and me.
“I can’t believe you’re trying to set me up with this jackass again.” Evie narrows her eyes. “I’m telling Dad you did this to me.”
Noah rubs his jaw sympathetically, whispering “You’re in so much trouble” as my shoulders start bouncing.
I so am.
“No,” I say, completely unconvincing. “It’s just friends hanging out. Why would I do that?” I huff a few empty laughs. “I mean ... you’re ... no ... come on.”
But it’s too late. Our cover is beginning to walk away, and I can see on her face that she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. The shit is officially about to hit the fan.
Noah walks up toward the throwing line, taking a fake tomato out of the bucket and tossing it in the air as Chase squirms in the seat, looking for a way out.
“I will not go gentle into this good pit—”
Noah laughs. “Now you’re adapting Dylan Thomas. I didn’t know you could read. What are you scared of? There’s no water, just balls ...”
It’s hilarious that the water’s been substituted, but it’s December in Boston; hypothermia is real. That and shrinkage could level a man for life.
“These things are dirty,” Chase bellows, pointing to the ball pit he’s hovering above. “I don’t think they’ve cleaned it since borrowing it from whatever day care was available.Toddlerstouched this parasitic plastic. Do you understand that? You can’t dunk me. It’s against bro code ...”
Noah keeps smirking as Chase begs. I would smile, too, but I’m busy pretending my sister isn’t burning a hole through my face.
Her voice drops low and sinister. “I will pay you back for this. You won’t see it coming, and it will be apocalyptic.”
I squeeze my eyes shut because she’s a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one. I’m so screwed. Reminder to self: Take away her key.
In contrast to her quiet threat, Chase is still yelling. “They’re basically cave dwellers who play in their own shit. That’s the fate you’re damning me to?”
My hand covers my mouth, hiding my laugh, but maybe the motion is what nabs his attention because the next thing I know, Chase is throwing himself forward, gripping the edge of the tank. He looks back and forth between Evie and me, stopping on her with almost literal hearts in his eyes before he spreads his arms wide.
“My earthly goddess. We meet again.”
Evie bristles, her head drawing back. She absolutely hates him. Noah throws his arm over my shoulder as I hide my face in his chest for a second, already laughing too hard.
But it’s short-lived because her eyes whip to ours, vengeful, as Noah says “Jesus” under his breath.
Noah was right. This is definitely Colosseum-level matchmaking. Except Evie’s the lion, and I’ve sent Chase to his death.
My sister pushes past us, looking at me first.
“You are fired as my sister. Move over,” she barks at Noah, taking the tomato out of his bucket before locking eyes with Chase. “Cheers to necrotized fasciitis.”
Chase gets halfway out with “I think I love you—” as her arm rockets the tomato straight into the center of the target.
Chase yelps, balls fly, and my sister lets out a “Whoo.”
“Four years of high school softball,” I offer to Noah’s whispered “Damn.”
He leans down close to my ear. “I guess we’ll just have to have two Christmases for the rest of our lives. The grandkids are gonna be so mad.”
I grin. He’s never letting that one go.
But before I can say anything, Evie’s already spinning back around, making us stand straighter as she throws her long, knotless boho braids over her shoulder.
“I’m finding food. Do not invite that man to Friendsmas, or I will go no contact.”
Without another word, she cuts between Noah and me, forcing us apart but leaving us to do the only thing we can—laugh.
