It takes about three eternal seconds before he finally seems to understand our conversation is over—for me, anyway—and he follows my brother out into the backyard. As soon as we’re alone, Adrian’s quizzical glance catches me. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Don’t know.” He shrugs. “The temperature in here just seemed to drop a few degrees when the guys came in.”
“Really?” Avoiding his gaze, I chop the rest of the onion. “I didn’t feel that.”
Adrian laughs as he pours the spaghetti into the boiling water then stirs it with a wooden spoon. “Yeah, right.”
I don’t remember a time in our friendship when I didn’t tell Adrian all my secrets, but what happened in this kitchen last night is something I don’t want to speak about. Not with him or with anyone else. Ever.
To my relief, Adrian respectfully changes the subject to party preparations instead of further questioning me, and within a few minutes he has me grinning again. Dancing with Thane was nice, but tonight I’m going to be kissed, and that is so much more important.
When the boys come in from the backyard and hear us chatting about the party snack list we still need to make, Thane smiles and offers, “I can take you. You’ll probably need a car to get all the stuff home.”
“Thanks, but no,” I reply in a very sweet tone. Maybe a little too sweet. “Adrian has a car and he’s taking me.” Actually, he didn’t mention anything, but it goes without saying between us. “So, I’ve got it all covered.”
With my treacly smile in place, Thane assesses me, his dark eyebrows tilted down. He has enough time to read exactly nothing in my face before I spin away, dismissing him without another word. Soon enough, he leaves my personal space and heads to the dining table, giving me a chance to breathe again.
Furtively, Adrian angles his head at me. Underneath the blond strands falling wickedly over this forehead, he arches one probing eyebrow in question. Lips pressed together, I shrug.
“PMS,” I mutter and shoot him a look that says: let it go.
While the sauce is cooking and Adrian discusses sports with my brother, the stupid part of me dares a brief glance at the table. Thane has his phone in his hand, but it’s like he feels my gaze the moment it touches him, and his eyes slowly lift to mine. Caught by their impact, I freeze for a second and swallow. The way his lips move, I’m dead sure he’s going to say something but I refuse to give him the chance and quickly return to the other side of the kitchen, keeping my back to him.
I think I hear him sigh.
His stone-cold voice fills every empty space in this room a moment later. “Found one in Oceanside. Let’s go!”
All three of us automatically spin around to him. In a swift move, he rises from the chair, shoves his phone into his pocket, and crosses to the door, this time not sparing me a single glance.
“But what’s with lunch?” Cam protests like a petulant toddler robbed of his baby bottle as he hurries after his friend. “I’m starving!”
“We’ll get you something on the way.” Thane’s tone leaves no room for discussion. The next thing we hear is the front door falling shut after he and Cameron have left the house.
“Seems as if your and Thane’s periods run in sync,” Adrian mutters dryly.
I gape at him then burst out laughing.
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