Page 68 of My Best Friend's Sister

T H I R T Y S E V E N

- Madeline -

“What’s wrong with you?” I blurted, unable to hide my frustration.

“Nothing,” he said, dragging another slice of pizza from the box.

I glanced down at the stretching cheese and considered yanking it until his pizza felt as exposed and vulnerable as I did right now. At least then he might stop eating for two seconds and tell me about the puppy murder he obviously witnessed on the way home.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked when he noticed I was seething on the other side of the pizza box, willing the balloons tied to the back of my chair to whisk me out the window to anywhere else.

I took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just a little confused.”

“Oh, here we go,” he mumbled.

“That’s not fair,” I said, scowling at him. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Was there a switch somewhere on his back that made him revert to his previous word-shy asshole setting? Because he seemed like an alien compared to the Quinn I’d been falling for. “Act like I’m unhinged,” I said. “You have no right.”

He sighed like I was spoiling his appetite. “What are you confused about?”

“I’m confused about the fact that you sent me thoughtful presents all week and now you’re acting like a complete jerk all of a sudden.”

“They weren’t presents,” he said, lifting his beer bottle. “I was trying to do you a solid.”

“A solid?!” His medley of gifts ran through my mind, and I recalled how each one made my heart swell, how each one made me feel like I was the heroine of some great love story. “You hired a barbershop quartet!”

He shrugged. “Look, whatever you think this is, Maddy, whatever you want this to be—”

This was not happening. “Fun,” I said, desperate to stop him from saying something hurtful, something I feared might weigh on my heart and replay in my head for weeks to come. “I thought this was fun, that we were having fun.” Was that so wrong? So unclear? “You’re acting like I sat you down to discuss names for our firstborn when all I’m trying to do is treat you to some pizza to thank you for making my week so special.”

“Oh.” He considered me from across the table, his steely eyes as unreadable as a wet newspaper.

“I thought we were having fun,” I repeated. Yes, I wanted more with him—daydreamed about more—but I hadn’t admitted that to him or even myself. I was too busy trying to play it cool and take things one day at a time because I couldn’t believe how lucky I was that someone like him would take an interest in me. But if the sick gurgling in my stomach was any indication, it seemed my luck had run out.

“Then there’s no issue,” he said. “Just as I suspected.”

I scoffed. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Quinn, but this isn’t fun right now. This is a goddamn Katy Perry song.”

His brows drew together. “I thought her songs were fun.”

Ugh?! Why were men so infuriatingly dense? Did he want me to pull my hair out? “What I mean to say, is you’re hot one second and cold the next.”

His face stayed still apart from his blinking. “Surely I’m both all the time,” he said, an arrogant smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

Was that supposed to be a joke? “What I’m trying to say is, one second we’re enjoying a romantic rooftop dinner and the next you’re freaked out that I bought pizza and a six pack.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

I ignored his meaningless rebuttal. “And one second you can’t get enough of me and the next you work late three nights in a row without even seeing or texting me?”

“I’m not your boyfriend, Maddy,” he said, his blue gaze steady against his dark features.

“Then why are you making me fall for you?”

“I’m not making you do anything.”

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