Page 239 of The Romance Adventure

“You used to wear glasses, so just how good are your eyes?” I tease.

Her smile thins. “Ha ha. Very funny. I got contacts before high school because someone, not naming names, teased me. Now, I only need glasses for reading. My eyes are fine. I can see you clearly and you have something in between your teeth.”

“I do?” I run my tongue over them.

She flashes the brattiest smile. “Ha ha. Made you check. No, you don’t have anything in your teeth. But Chip was in the box. Mr. Gustafson was the main guy, and he always had a student assistant—usually the head cheerleader’s boyfriend Chris Jackson. She’d tell me to tell him where they’d meet during halftime.”

“You’re not making this up, are you?”

“Why would I make up such an elaborate and pointless story? I figured you knew your grandfather was there.”

I tap the air with my finger. “Ah. He sat up there because the commentator’s box was air-conditioned.”

Harley nods and her eyes dip in reverie. “Yep. And those thirty seconds relaying the message to Chris were pure climate-controlled bliss. But then I’d have to run back down the stairs and would be hotter than when I’d gone up.”

“You were definitely hot.”

“If this table weren’t between us, I’d give you the atomic elbow.”

I chuckle at the way Brando, my brothers, and I used to torment each other with elbow jabs—the atomic one was the worst. “You can’t do the atomic elbow.”

“I’ve had over ten years to practice, you’d better believe I can do it.”

Holding up my hands in protest, I say, “I’m not volunteering. But everyone at Key Largo High School knew you were hot. Senior yearbook superlative: Harley Jean Owens, the hottest student.”

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to start believing you.”

“Be my guest.”

Our gazes cruise past each other as if not sure whether the light is green, yellow, or red.

My pulse kicks.

She shifts slightly as if something flutters inside.

My breath is shaky when I exhale. “I’m surprised Chip was there. News to me. So was the will. I consulted the Romance Game rulebook, and you need to read this.” Her phone is on the table too, and I switch them like a dealer in a shell game.

“Okay, fine. But I’m only doing it so I don’t break any rules. The Junk goes to Magnus, the Sloop, to Ryan...” She trails off and must read the rest before she goes quiet. “The Sloop?”

“The Sip & Scoop. Chip named all the buildings after boats.”

“You own the old ice cream shop?”

I nod slowly.

She keeps reading. Even though I practically have it memorized, it refuses to make sense to me. Throughout school, I could do my homework just fine. Okay, not often, but still, I could complete an assignment. When it came to taking tests, I’d choke up. Couldn’t understand the same words I’d read hundreds of times. It’s kind of like that with the will.

Harley’s voice fades, but her lips continue to move. I cannot stop staring at her lips. They’re so full, so soft, so perfect.

“‘Solving this puzzle will be a great adventure that takes you beyond your comfort zones. It’ll be humbling and educational. It will require careful thought, collaboration, courage, and strength. Think of any setbacks as opportunities. Learn while you wait and learn to wait. You win if you don’t quit. Go forth and find her. Godspeed, and may the wind and tide be ever in your favor. The end.’”

Her gaze lifts to mine. It’s the perfect package, a gift really: Harley’s eyes and lips. Even though she doesn’t have great eyesight and even though she doesn’t always say what I want to hear—like acknowledging that I think she’s hot or saying yes to being together with me freshman year—I could speak clearer too.

“Ryan, what if Chip wasn’t giving you questions to answer, but simply wanted to stoke your curiosity?”

My mind wakes up with a jolt at that possibility. “Could be. Knew there was a reason I kept you around, kiddo.”

“I thought it was Nugget.”