Page 49 of Talk Nerdy To Me
Putting my phone away, I notice Base grinning at me. “Why do you look frustrated?”
“Because Harley…doesn’t always make sense…even though she’s usually the one I understand the most.”
Now it seems more and more like he’s the one I understand the most. Then sometimes, I simply don’t understand him, not even a little bit, not even at all.
“What’d she do that you don’t understand?” he asks, that trademark smile of his inching across his face. “Maybe I can help translate.”
“When I told her you were here and shirtless a lot—”
“You mentioned the fact I’m shirtless a lot?” he interrupts, his grin turning lopsided as he arches an eyebrow at me.
“It came up,” I say with a shrug. “Anyway, she thinks she’s ‘the world’s best boss’ and an ‘awesome friend’ because she’s making me work at home so I can see you shirtless.”
His head drops back as his body shakes with evident silent laughter he keeps tucked away behind firmly pressed lips.
“After I specifically told her you rejected me,” I go on, getting to the tedious part, since he asked. His silent laughter stops, judging by how his body goes still. “So I don’t understand her current thought process.”
He clears his throat, looking over at me with an expression I can’t possibly decipher. Incredulity, maybe?
“I didn’t reject you, Britt. I rejected taking something that personal from you, because it’d be a dick move. I’m still on the path to sainthood.”
I have no idea what sainthood has to do with anything. I could point out the only thing I’ve deliberately offered was the one thing he rejected, therefore meaning he rejected me—but I don’t.
Instead, I stand, grab my purse and slide on my sandals without commenting.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks, causing me to frown as I look over my shoulder.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
His lips twitch, and he exhales harshly.
“I told you my priorities right now are music. In two more years, if you’re still up for grabs, I’ll be the first person asking for a second chance,” he says with an easy grin, one that reminds me of Maverick when he’s being charming…and saying things just to be nice to people.
“Okay,” is the only safe word I can find when I remain undecided on how sincere that comment is.
He’s the type to spare feelings, so I can imagine him being artificially charming to cushion the sting of rejection.
I shouldn’t have brought it up.
“And I’m back to getting one word answers,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I thought we were going to eat, because I’m actually hungry,” I state in overt deflection.
Sensing the subtle tension from this really unexpected conflict, I turn and walk toward the door, hearing him laughing in a way that doesn’t really sound like he’s amused.
I would try to fix it, but the more I talk, the worse things usually get, especially without a buffer. I don’t want to risk saying the wrong thing and accidentally escalating the situation until it spirals out of control.
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck. Avoiding all conflict is a lot harder when you spend more time together.
