Page 72 of Denial
“So don’t watch.”
“I can’t not watch. You’re like a goddamn firecracker. Energetic, bright, and fucking impossible to ignore.”
A beat passes. “What?”
“I want to go back to the other thing.”
Her chin jerks back like I gave her whiplash. “What other thing?”
“Were you going to kiss him?”
“What does that have to do with anything? What’s it matter to you?”
“I think I should get to know who you might be bringing around my daughter.”
“You’re kidding, right? It’s a hookup, not a marriage proposal. Why would he be around your daughter?”
Hearing her spell it out again ricochets through me like a punch to the gut.
“If this is about the other day, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“You think I’m trying to hook up with someone to, what, get back at my boss? No, Sutton. I’m trying to find someone to hook up with because I’m horny!”
The second those words leave her mouth, it’s like the entire world descends into silence. No longer do I hear the pulsing music from the building behind us. Or the hum of conversation from the crack we left in the door. The crickets in the grass and the frogs in the manmade pond seem to abruptly cease their song.
My lungs are full of air but they forget how to contract. I’m frozen, mouth open and closing as I search for a suitable response.
Alice beats me to it. Covering her eyes, she turns her back and screeches into the blackness. Her torso heaves with heavy breaths.
“You want my help?” The words reverberate from deep in my chest.
“I think I might actually hate you,” she mumbles.
Ouch.
Her rejection pricks my skin like I just angered a nest of wasps. I run my top teeth over my bottom lip. “You don’t.”
Her shoulders sag. “No, I don’t. But I’m fucking embarrassed, so I’m going to go now and forget this ever happened.
I move a step closer. “You’re leaving?—”
“I meant back inside. And I don’t want you to follow me.”
I nod once. “I am sorry.”
She watches me tuck my hands into my pockets. “About what?”
“The other day. I was overprotective. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, it’s Nellie who needs a talkin’-to about boundaries.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes.”
She cocks a brow. “You’re not sorry about tonight?”
“No.”
“Typical,” she mutters, but her lips twitch in the corners. “See you Monday?”
