Page 96 of So That Happened

Annie throws back her head and laughs. “Oh, he was only the studliest little stud muffin Miss Jawinski’s fifth grade class ever saw.”

“Need me to hunt him down for a little roughing up, too?”

“Tempting.” Annie smirks, and I could swear her eyes drop to my biceps for a moment. I can’t help myself, I cross my arms a little tighter, suddenly grateful for those endless bicep curls. “But no need. Back in fifth grade, I killed his best Tamagotchi for revenge.”

I let out a chuckle. “How exactly did you go about that?”

“Held down the reset button while Toby was in the bathroom.”

“You cold-blooded little robot pet from the past murderer!”

“I’m not to be underestimated.”

“I could never underestimate you.” The words come out more loaded than a steakhouse baked potato. I immediately wish I could cram them back in my mouth.

Her eyes latch onto mine and a crackling silence stretches between us.

She shifts on her feet. “Well, I guess I should get going.”

I don’t want her to leave.

“Want a drink?” I find myself spontaneously asking. Logically, I know I shouldn’t have asked. It’s Sunday night, we have work in the morning. Of course she wouldn’t want to stay for a drink wi—

“Like a glass of wine?” she asks.

“That is an example of a drink, yes.” My lips twitch as I watch her face. Watch the way her brow softens, the small smile tugging at her mouth. “Or beer, coffee, a juice box, whatever you prefer.”

I’m filled with this weird, nervous energy. Something that feels a lot like anticipation.

There’s a battle raging in Annie’s eyes and I wonder which way she’s going to go. Maybe tell me to take my drink idea and shove it. But I have the feeling she won’t.

“Wine,” she finally says, her eyes locked on mine. “If you have any. Please.”

My lips pull up at the corners. “Red or white?”

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

My eyes travel over her auburn hair, flushed cheeks and arms. “Definitely red.”

I’m gratified to see her skin deepen to a delicious shade of burgundy.

* * *

It’s a beautiful night, so we end up sitting on Lana’s back porch (with the door closed—Harry likes to make night-time escapes if given the chance). Annie slips off her shoes and curls her legs under her while I uncork a bottle of Shiraz. It would be perfect, except that Lana’s doll-sized wicker loveseat feels like it might collapse under my weight.

The little couch is barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but it’s the only outdoor seating available. Which means that we’re sitting so close, I can feel her every move. Sense when she wiggles her toes or shifts sideways. It’s… cozy. Intimate.

The starry sky and the wine add to the effortlessly romantic mood.

Just what on earth do I think I’m doing?

Luke would howl with laughter if he could see me now.

I shove all pesky thoughts of my brother away as I pour two glasses of wine and pass one to Annie, my fingertips grazing her hand as I do. Roughness on cool, silky skin. The sensation is almost unbearable. An itch I need to scratch.

I slowly, reluctantly, pull my hand back, and Annie shivers a little as she cradles her glass. She takes a sip. “When does your sister get back?”

“In a couple days. I’m sure Legs will be glad to see the back of me and have her mom back.”

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