Page 23 of Left-Hand Larceny
I almost stumble over my sneakers because she’s right. Vic and Robbie are here, our team captains. Vic’s brother Erik. Their significant others are here, Tristan and Quinn. I don’t know our social media manager’s little sister, Maddie, but I’m aware she’s one of what, five? She smiled and thanked me when I handed her a card. Not at all confused about my presence at her celebration.
“Besides, give it ten minutes and I’m sure Spags will say something so inappropriate to Maddie that we’ll either be forgotten in the laughter or we’ll have to leave so we don’t witness his murder and have to testify in court. You’re already doing great.”
It’s my turn to nod.
“Who d-do you think-ink will do the h-honors?”
She stops in her tracks, clearly pouring over my words, and I almost plow into the back of her. The warmth of her body seeps through my t-shirt. It’s like standing too close to the wood stove at Amma’s. It’s delicious. So hot it scalds. I don’t step away.
“Sorri.”
We’re so close she has to tip her head back to stare at me. Big dark eyes blink once. Twice. Her tongue wets her bottom lip and I fist my hands at my side before shoving them into the front pocket of my jeans.I’m the one who told her this wouldn’t be an issue. That my crush wouldn’t cause problems.
“I—” she licks her lips again, eyes dropping to my mouth, then flying back up to meet mine. “I forgot what I was gonna say.”
Every breath is heavy. Am I swaying toward her? I need to take a step back, put some distance here. I promised her back in the diner I’d keep my head on straight. And here I am, ogling her at the first opportunity. Forget Maddie murdering Spags. I’m the one who needs flattened.
“I th-think Tristan will k-kill him.” I dart a glance up and over her head.
Her shoulders drop as she takes a breath. She exhales with a chuckle.
“Nah.” She shakes her head. “Mads will take care of it all on her own.” She holds her hand out to me, wiggling her fingers. “Come on. I changed my mind. We definitely don’t want to miss the show.”
I hesitate. My heart hammers against my breastbone, knocking the wind out of me with each beat. Then I slide my palm across hers, trying to remember how to breathe as she curls her fingers around mine.
We walk the rest of the way in silence, which works for me. Every facet of my brain is laser focused on where our skin touches. The way her hand is a solid weight in mine. Her skin is warm and dry and soft.I hate noticing at all, but can’t seem to force my mind away.
We reach the copse of gnarled apple trees faster than I would like. The rest of the party has already grouped on and started picking fruit, and I brace myself for Sadie to drop my hand. I tell myself it’s the loss of grounding support I’m preparing for. It’s not. She doesn’t let go.
Spags is batting his blonde lashes at the birthday girl. Tristan’s sister has her arms crossed over her chest, one dark brow raised as she stares him down. It’s the kind of expression that should have Spags ducking and covering his sensitive bits, but he doesn’t. He grins, leaning even closer to whisper something into her ear. I notice the twitch of her lips—like she desperately wants to smile—before she smacks the back of her hand across his chest.
Sadie’s fingers tighten around mine. Squeeze, let go. Squeeze, let go. Squeeze, let go.
When I turn my head, she’s right there.
“This is the easy part,” she says. “Smile when someone looks at you.”
I frown.
“Th-that’s it?”
“To start.”
“I-isn’t that w-w-what I always d-do?”
Smile silently in the corner? Make commentary in my head?
She winces, and I sigh.Apparently not.
“Let’s just work on the smiling, kay.” She pats the bulk of my biceps.“And if someone asks you a question, answer it. And ask one back.”
It all sounds deceptively simple.
Twenty minutes later I have a bag full of apples, my cheeks hurt from forcing myself to smile, and I still haven’t said a word to anyone other than Sadie. To be honest, I’m not even picking the apples. I’m holding the bag while Sadie carefully twists each fruit free and places it inside. To be more fair, I think she’s the only person I’ve smiled at since she also is the only person I’m watching. I should work on that.
I’m trying to push the warmth of her touch out of my mind, but it’s harder than it should be. Especially when the heat of her still lingers in the air between us.
Friends. Platonic. Coworkers.
