“Hmm, I sense a story,” Andi said, sounding all too happy about that fact. “I expect details on the way home.”
Eliza made a noncommittal sound as they headed to the car. Even though she was usually happy to dish with Andi about things, she didn’t think she’d share what had happened on the porch quite yet. For one, she didn’t have the energy to analyze it, which Andi would inevitably want to do. But also, for some reason, the moment shared on the porch with Beckham seemed fragile in some way, easily shattered, like if too many people looked at it, it would crumble under the scrutiny. Like those ancient artworks that disintegrated a little each time they were exposed to light.
For now, she wanted to keep it protected, for her eyes only. Private.
When they reached the car and Eliza walked in front of her to get to the driver’s side, Andi sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”
“What?” Eliza asked, startled from her thoughts.
“That smell.” Andi’s face was tipped up like she was still trying to catch the scent. “Is thatwatermelon?”
Eliza rolled her lips together, trying not to smile, and opened the car door. “No idea.”