Page 85 of Only in Your Dreams

My head snaps up, chest seizes. Entire body eases, like the very sight of her just eliminated everything that’s wrong with the world. Melody stands in my doorway, flashing Brooks a small smile before fixing her full attention on me. She’s wearing a pale purple dress and sneakers, and a denim jacket with a floral pattern embroidered throughout it. The look is so vintage Melody I feel a tug in my chest.

“Is it safe to come in?” she says, hesitating by the door.

“Not really,” Brooks mutters for my ears only.

“Yes,” I tell her, rounding my desk to lean on its other side, closer to her.

She crosses the room to sit in the chair next to Brooks’s. “I assume by the awkward silence that Zac told you the plan?”

“Mels, I’d give anything to turn back the clock to half an hour ago, when I was blissfully unaware of this scheme. It’s ridiculous and completely unnecessary.”

She deflates. “So you won’t do it?”

Brooks sinks into his chair. “Of course, I’ll do it.” He turns to me. “But let me make it clear that I’m never again paying for my own drinks when we’re out together. They’re all on your tab, man.”

“Deal,” I say quickly. “That’s more than fair.”

“Well, alright then. I’ll leave you guys to it,” Brooks says, getting to his feet. He grins down at Mel. “Enjoy the game,girlfriend.”

At the door, he turns to give me as close to a firm look as he can muster. “And you. While you’re with my girlfriend, there’ll be no touching. No staring. No cutesy nicknames. And don’t even smile at her. Do you hear me?”

With a laugh, he dodges the pen I launch across the room and shuts the door behind him.

Melody gives me a funny look. “Why can’t you smile at me?”

“Don’t ask,” I say, rubbing my face.

“Okay…” she drawls, taking me in. “You look nervous. Do you have a bit of time before you have to get out there?”

“I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Clover. Ask me to blow off the game and I’d do it.”

“Stop that,” Melody mumbles, covering her face with in her hands. “Stop being so damn sweet, Porter. It’s nauseating.”

“You love it.” I’m smiling stupid-big. It’s so charming when she’s bashful.

She surfaces from her hands with flushed cheeks. “I don’t love it. I tolerate it.”

I hum. Crook a finger to beckon her over. To my surprise, she gets up without protest and stands between my outstretched legs as I sit on the edge of my desk. I stroke her cheek with the back of my finger.

“You’re blushing pretty hard over something you only tolerate.”

Mel fiddles with the lengths of her hair. It’s different from the way she normally wears it. Kind of curly tonight, and she’s wearing different eye makeup too. A black line over her eyelashes that kind of flicks up at the ends, like little wings.

“You changed your hair,” I tell her, reaching for a few strands and watching them sink through my fingers like soft Caribbean sand. “It looks great.”

“You don’t think it’s too much?”

“What do you mean?”

“Connor preferred me looking natural. And then I realized that his version ofnaturalactually involved a full face of neutral makeup. Just no winged liner or bright lipstick, or whatever.”

Fascinated, I take her chin, moving her face from side to side to have a better look at the black lines. Jesus, that’s gotta take some skill. Those lines would be wonky little nubs if I had a hand in them.

She gazes at me anxiously. “Are they uneven? I’m a bit out of practice.”

“They’re perfect. You got them on the same angle, and everything,” I say, studying her eyes. “You’re beautiful, Clover.”

With my fingers holding her chin, I can feel the give in her face at the words. Her eyes go soft and she rubs her lips together, drawing my attention there.

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