Page 57 of The Score We Never Settled

Sue us.

“I’m gonna have to try some of that,” Adeline forces herself to fill in politely when Everly and I both know she has zero interest in sharing our baking stories or tasting anything.

She has more interest in selling me out and what insanely annoying town event she can come up with.

“Right,” Everly quickly dismisses, then returns her attention to me. “Are you stayin’ for the Summer Festival? A few friends of mine have new games at the gaming tent and?—”

“I wish I could,” I fib again because there is just zero way I can stand here and be around Briggs. Even though I haven’tlooked at him yet, nor acknowledged his existence. “But I’m havin’ dinner with my Uncle Ben.”

“At seven, right?” Adeline chimes in and, my God, does she want me to strangle her today with my bare hands?

“Right,” I drone. “Weird that you’d know that, Adeline.”

“You do it every year.”

Whatever.

“I’m flattered,” I lie. “Love how you know everything about me, where I’m at, and what I’m doin’.”

Her green eyes glimmer with an obnoxious gleam that only confirms she doesn’t care and that she’s going to keep doing it.

I should tell Agnes she’s gunning for her job.

“Hang out with me,” Everly begs with a tiny tug on my dress. “We haven’t talked for a while, and I want to ask you about my next classes.”

God, girl, I would if you didn’t have such annoying company.

Everly is the only Kerrigan I can stand right now.

“We can do lunch,” I suggest. “I have to get my stuff back before I go to dinner?—”

“I’ll keep your wagon safe,” Agnes suggests, clearly taking every excuse I have right underneath me. “Go have some fun, honey.”

Why does this town suddenly hate me?

Agnes claims my handle, physically stripping away my getaway, and I’m trapped.

Man, this is one of those times where Uncle Ben’s appearance would be perfect here.

I need a bat signal.

Everly squeals a little in excitement, stepping away and glancing at the body behind me.

“Briggs, you can win Layla Jean that pink teddy bear you saw.”

He doesn’t respond right away, making my body still on bated anticipation of what he’s going to do or say.

I can’t think of another excuse quick enough. My brain is shutting down and trying to operate on an emergency system of when to take breaths, how to settle myself into not having a nervous breakdown with having to spend time with Briggs, but thankfully, with his sister.

“Absolutely,” he finally divulges in this deep, husky tone he does when he’s contemplating something that’s probably going to make me melt at his feet. Been there, done that. “I can definitely keep Layla Jean entertained before dinner.”

Why does that sound like he’s going to find a corner and maul me in it?

Because he will.

He has.

And I loved every second of it.