Page 96 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“Really?” His mouth curves into a shocked smile, and honestly, it’s like watching the end of a rom-com where two very unlikely people realize they might actually be perfect for each other.

Another nod.

“Shut up!” he says. “I like you too!”

“Wanna dance?” she asks.

“Heck yeah!”

He picks her up, and she throws one hand over her head, shouting, “Woo-hoo!” as he moves through the crowd, leaving Booker and me sitting at the table. Alone.

Chapter 24

It seems like the universe—and everyone in it—has concocted plans for Booker and me to end up alone together.

I’m stunned by how easy it was for Daisy to make that decision—to tell Louie exactly how she feels with no fear of the consequences. She didn’t overthink it or make it into something it didn’t need to be. She just said it. Out loud.

One glance at Booker, and I’m bombarded with feelings, none of which I can say out loud.

“So...,” I say, feeling suddenly awkward. “Apparently, Daisy doesn’t need Friday questions.”

Booker’s eyes flicker. “I don’t think most people need Friday questions,” he says. “Most people just say how they feel.”

I meet his eyes. “What’s wrong with us then?” A dry laugh escapes.

“There’s a lot of things wrong with me, for sure, but after watching you on that dance floor, I can’t think of a single thing wrong with you.”

The words stop me. “That sounds like flirting,” I say. When he doesn’t respond, I add, “Friends don’t flirt.”

“Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

Flirting or being friends?I wonder. Because I don’t want to stop either.

He takes a drink from his bottle, which I only now look at.

I frown at it. “You’re drinking an alcohol-free beer?”

“I’m driving,” he says. “No way I’m going to risk not getting you home safe.”

And there’s that swoop in my stomach again.

“Besides, I want to have all of my senses tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because if I only get you for the summer, I want to be fully present for all of it.”

Am I imagining this? I’ve never been great at reading signs, and I don’t want to misinterpret, but... “Can I confirm that you are, in fact, flirting with me?”

He doesn’t even twitch as he says, “I thought that was obvious.”

I frown. “I thought you were anti-romance.” I stir the ice cubes around in my glass with the straw, only now realizing that Booker must’ve gotten me a refill before he came to the table.

“Ah,” he says, like he knows. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Ro.”

Ro.

It’s what my friends call me.

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