Page 63 of It's a Date (Again)

We stare at one another for a moment, but it’s one of those moments you can fill a lifetime in. “I didn’t forget about it,” he says under his breath.

“What?” I ask. Did he just say what I think he did?

“Nothing.” He exhales noisily.

I squint at him, trying to get him to repeat what he said, but he’s fallen quiet.

His fingers curl under the hem of his hoodie and, in one fell swoop, he pulls it up over his head, letting it drop to the floor. My breath hitches, and I swallow hard. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t what I’m seeing right now. Sculpted biceps, firm pecs, and carved abs. His skin is smooth and clean shaven. It makes me forget what he even just said. I’m not sure if he does it on purpose or not, but his biceps flex and his pecs bounce. Is he flirting with me? I look away and clear my throat, taking a step back.

Robbie lowers his chin. “Maybe you were right about the pact. Maybe it wasn’t silly.” That sounds a little flirty. Or perhaps he’s finally seeing things my way. Promises between friends aren’t silly. Well, this wasn’t so much a promise. It was a full-on commitment pact.

“No, it was. No one makes a relationship pact when they’re nineteen and follows through on it.” I smile back at him, trying to make the conversation a little lighter. “Besides, you said we wouldn’t work together.”

He doesn’t return the smile. He just stares back at me with those cloudy blue eyes and nods.

“I say a lot of things.”

Wait, is he saying we would work? Or is he just saying he says a lot of things? I’m so confused. Drunk Robbie is like a blank crossword puzzle. The clues are there but the real words are missing. “What do you mean?” I ask.

His mouth forms a straight line, and I notice his Adam’s apple rocks up and down like he just swallowed the true words he was going to say. “Nothing.” He shrugs and slides into bed.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t know what he’s saying.

“All snug as a bug?” I ask, trying to get him to lighten up.

It doesn’t work, though. He doesn’t say anything and instead rolls over, turning his body away from me. I want him to say more things but I can tell he’s already falling asleep. His muscles relax, and his breath becomes slow and controlled. I know he’s going to wake up tomorrow feeling horrible, and I feel bad, so I want to take care of him like he’s done for me. Quietly, I race around my apartment, gathering items for him. I grab Tylenol, a bottle of water, a packet of electrolytes, and a granola bar. I splay them out on the nightstand and leave a handwritten note that reads:Morning, Robbie. Hope you feel better. Xo, your dame in shining armor, accompanied by amnesia.

CHAPTER11

The intoxicating smell and crackling sound of bacon wakes me from a deep sleep. Rolling over, I find the other half of the bed empty. Robbie’s gone and his side of the pillow wall is made. The items I left out for him are gone too, so I assume he’s in the kitchen, cooking breakfast to make up for his behavior last night—if he even remembers it. Looks like we both might have some memory loss. I really can’t believe how drunk he got, but I hope he’s feeling better. I follow the smell of bacon to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” I say.

Debbie turns from the stove and smiles. She’s dressed in a pair of pajama pants with a matching top and a long-knit cardigan. It’s as though she came up to my place in a rush with no time to change. She places fried bacon on a plate and cracks two eggs into a pan. The eggs sizzle in the leftover bacon grease.

“Where’s Robbie?” I ask, scanning the living room.

“He came down and got me about twenty minutes ago. Said he had to go into work early and didn’t want to wake you.” She lifts a brow. “But I think he was just embarrassed and didn’t want to face you.”

I take a seat at the island counter. “You think?”

Debbie nods and flips the eggs. Two pieces of bread pop out of the toaster. “Oh yes. That wasn’t like Robbie at all. He’s always the one that keeps you and Maya out of trouble. Not the other way around.” She raises a brow.

“I don’t know what got into him. He kept ordering beers and shots for him and Tyler.”

Debbie slathers butter onto the toast and pours orange juice into two glasses. She slides one to me along with my morning pills. I toss them in my mouth and wash them down with a gulp of OJ.

“I think he’s just worried,” Debbie says.

“About what?”

“Losing you.”

My face crinkles in confusion. “Why would he think he’s going to lose me?”

“Because when you figure out which of these guys you love, you’ll spend your time with him. Maya has Anthony. You’ll have your man, and it’ll leave Robbie as the odd one out.” Debbie places a fried egg on each plate along with some bacon and toast.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

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