Page 32 of Strike Zone

“They’re going to laugh at me.”

“So what if they do.” He shrugs one shoulder and pulls me out of his room. I drag my feet, attempting to delay our progress. “It’s just Nash and his football buddy. I bet they’ll even join us.”

Wyatt pauses at the bottom of the steps. “Let your hair down, birdie.” He reaches up and pulls the elastic band out of my hair, unspiraling the tight bun I had my hair twisted in and shakes it out with the pad of his fingers.

My eyelids flutter and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. He slides his fingers down a strand of my hair, grazing the top of my breast. His eyes raise to meet mine and gauge my reaction to his touch. Maybe it’s the rose-colored glasses I’m wearing, but he looks very kissable right now.

He exhales a slow breath before encouraging me upstairs again.

“I’m not singing. I don’t sing,” I say. I don’t like singing in front of people. Not anymore.

“At least say the words. You know “Bennie and the Jets?” That’s what I sang for the karaoke party. It’s the only one I know.”

“I know enough,” I answer, once we reach the top of the stairs. I’m crossing my fingers and toes that Nash and Eli left the house. My face and chest are warm to the touch. Sweat is building in my under arms, and I alternate waving a hand under each armpit.

He chuckles. “You’ll be fine. Relax. It’s all for fun. I’ll start us off. Follow my lead.”

Easier said than done. I wipe my hands down the back of my shorts. Wyatt nods to Eli and Nash, who are still sitting at the table. Nash does a double take, a slow grin spreads across his face.

Wyatt takes my hand in his, gives me a nod. I nod back. I’m not really sure what I’m agreeing to exactly. Suddenly, Wyatt is sliding across the kitchen floor on his sock covered feet, pulling me along for the ride.

“Hey kids…” he starts off singing. I don’t know the words well enough to sing along to the verse. Not that I would be able to anyway with Wyatt spinning me around, pulling me close, then pushing me away. He has us dancing around the entire kitchen.

When the chorus hits, he jiggles my arms encouraging me to sing with him. I’m not that brave but I do say the words. It will have to be good enough.

Wyatt beams at me while he sings. I realize I’m smiling too. By the second verse Nash and Eli have given up on homework and joined our impromptu dance party. Nash takes the boa off my neck and throws it to Eli. Then he steals Wyatt’s from him too.

I pass Eli my glasses. When he puts them on, he transforms into full performance mode. His voice is amazing. I look at Wyatt and his eyes are as wide as mine.

Nash grabs my hands and spins me around. Laughter spills out of me. He passes me over to Eli, who sings, while we do the twist. There’s no music. Just the guys singing acapella. It’s enough to make me forget where I am and who I am. I’m not the girl who dances carefree in the kitchen. I’m the girl who believes the kitchen has one purpose—to prepare food.

I don’t know where that girl is, but she isn’t here right now.

Dropping Eli’s hands, I jump around and let everything go. I close my eyes and twirl and twirl until I’m dizzily falling into Wyatt’s arms. He’s taken his glasses off. His brown eyes dance over my face, taking in every detail.

“I like seeing you like this,” he whispers.

Like what? How do you see me?

“I’ll admit, you were right. It was fun,” I say, catching my breath. His hand slips to the curve of my back. I clear my throat. “We should, uh, probably finish cleaning downstairs or you won’t have anywhere to sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, we should,” he says in a way that makes me think there is something else he wants to do instead. His eyes drift to my lips for a moment. I step out of his hold. We are too close. Not that I think he would kiss me in front of Nash and Eli. Not that he would kiss me at all. What am I even thinking? Get a grip.

“Nash, Eli, thank you for joining our fun. You can keep the accessories. They look good on you.”

“Hey, I wanted to keep those.” I ignore Wyatt’s protest and walk toward the basement door. “I want everything back,” Wyatt says. He tells Nash something else but I can’t make it out from where I’m standing on the basement stairs.

The next few hours we dig through more memories of Wyatt’s first years at Newhouse. While I found him irritating at times when he would get distracted by a costume or a crazy hat he had stuffed in a corner, I also laughed more than I have since I was a child.

Is it wrong for me to hope that he doesn’t sleep with Charlie? Because if something happens between them, and Charlie gets hurt, I’ll lose him as my friend. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I don’t want that to happen.

Wyatt is quickly becoming someone I can’t live without.

WYATT & WREN

WYATT

What are you wearing?

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