She holds up both hands. “Whoa, pardon me for hurting you with the truth.”
My face is totally on fire, and my brain is frozen. I sit rooted to my seat and stare at Gwendolyn. How much beer has she reallyhad? Probably more than two, because she’s getting sloppy with her bullying.
“You should have stayed with me,” she says to Carwyn.
Wait. Carwyn dated Gwendolyn? When was that?
“If I had, you wouldn’t have wound up with Sam,” he says. His face is red. It’s probably not as red as mine, though. He shoots Sam an apologetic look.
“Pfft.” Gwendolyn dismisses Sam with a flick of her hand.
“Thanks,” Sam says and frowns.
She leans into him. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll settle for you.”
Now Sam’s face is red, too, and his lips are pressed together so hard they’re white around the edges. “Okay, that’s it. I’m taking you home.”
“Ooh, good idea,” she purrs. “We can have a lot more fun without these two.”
Sam doesn’t look ready to have fun. He stands up and throws some bills on the table. “Let’s go,” he says to Gwendolyn, his voice terse. He turns to Carwyn and me. “I’m sorry, guys. She had a beer before you got here.”
“Truth serum,” says Carwyn, and Sam nods.
“This doesn’t look good,” I say as Sam stalks off with Gwendolyn trailing behind at a stroll.
“One can hope,” says Carwyn. “She’s bad news.”
“If you knew that, why didn’t you warn Sam?” I demand.
“A man doesn’t diss another man’s woman. It’s a good way to ruin a friendship. Anyway, I figured she’d show her true colors.”
“I guess you saw them first,” I venture. “I don’t remember you two dating in high school.” I remember every girl he dated.
He nods, grabs a slice of pizza. “It was after you moved to New York. It lasted about a minute. She’s got a mean streak. And I’ve seen puddles deeper than her. She wasn’t what I’m looking for.”
“So whatareyou looking for?” I ask, and I realize my leg is bobbing up and down as I wait for his answer.
“I want someone who’s smart and kind.” He abandons the pizza, smiles at me, and traces a hand up my arm, making me quiver like a little girl in front of the Christmas tree. “I want you, even if you are out of my league now.”
This is all so fantastical. If it weren’t for the goose bumps, I would swear I’m dreaming. “I’ve never been out of anyone’s league,” I mutter.
He shakes his head. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Put yourself down.”
Because it’s hard to see past my geeky teen years, and even harder to see past all my mistletoe mistakes. This can’t work out. I shrug.
“Hailey, you’re great. And I’m loving hanging out with you.”
“Really?” I study his face, looking for some sign that he’s feeding me malarky. I can’t see any.
“Really,” he says. “I always thought you were a cute kid. Even if you were a snob,” he teases, making me snort and shake my head at him.
“I was never a snob,” I tell him.Just shy and awkward and in awe of you.
***
