on a date with, which was really nice of him.
It was almost midnight and a Thursday night, so I expected everyone except Cam to be out. But when I walked in, both he and Sam were sprawled on the sectional, a nature documentary droning on the TV.
I thought they might be asleep, but both immediately jerked their heads my way when I shut the door behind me.
“How’d it go?” they both spoke at the same time.
I put my hand back on the doorknob. “I’m gonna go out and come back in again and hopefully pop us out of the twilight zone. That was creepy as hell, and I’m not sure whether it’s the unison part or your mutual investment in my love life, which suggests sad things about me.” I kicked my shoes off. “It was fine. Not a love connection, but maybe friends. I had a good time, I guess. What are y’all watching?”
“No clue.” Sam scrutinized me carefully, but I wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Want to join, or are you heading to bed? I’m getting pretty tired, actually.”
“I’ll hang for a while. Can we switch to The Great British Bake Off, or are you both super invested in seeing this cheetah get his guts ripped out?”
Cam shifted slightly on his couch and tossed me the remote. Sam shot a look over at him before swinging his feet off part of the couch he’d claimed and making room for me.
I changed the channel and flopped down in the empty space next to Sam. “Thought you were tired,” I said when he didn’t make any move to go to bed.
He shrugged. “Might watch a little longer. See how this turns out.”
I grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. “Where’s Ansel?”
“Said he had a date.” Cam yawned.
“With who?”
“He didn’t say that.”
“He’s such a weirdo.” If one day Ansel popped up on Instagram as some running phenom who lived out of a van and just drove across the US uploading videos of himself doing yoga, running marathons, and scaling various mountains, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
“A cute one, though,” Cam said.
“Agreed.”
Sam gave me a sideways look, and I tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “He is. It’s okay. You can admit it, too.”
Ten minutes later, my eyelids were drooping. When I swung a look over at Sam, though, he seemed wide-awake, his posture stiff.
“You okay?” I said quietly and craned a look back at Cam. He’d fallen quiet, too, but I wasn’t sure whether or not he was asleep.
“What? Oh yeah,” he whispered back. “Really nervous about this challenge.”
I side-eyed him. “Not to spoil it for you, but they’re all going to make something delicious and be lovely while doing it.” We hadn’t even reached the technical challenge yet. We were still in my favorite part, the signature challenge where contestants showed off their tried-and-true recipes.
“Well, I’ve become a little invested already. You cold?” Sam eyed my arms, which I’d hugged around my chest. No idea why. But before I could respond, he dragged a blanket from the back of the couch and offered it out to me.
“Gonna tuck me in, too?” I teased, then chuckled quietly as he rolled forward, tucking the blanket tightly around my shoulders and then stretching it out over both of us.
“You would kill it on this show,” Sam said, sotto voce, and I felt the warmth of his large hand close around my toes and squeeze. Somewhere in the midst of the getting comfy and blanket draping, my socked feet had naturally come to a rest against his outer thighs. I hadn’t given it any thought before, but now I was on high alert.
“You’ve placed a lot of unearned confidence in my baking skills when I’m pretty sure I’ve never baked for you.”
“It’s the same thing as cooking, right?”
I gasped in mock horror. “You take that back right now. They’re not the same thing. There are people out there who are amazing cooks and shitty bakers. And vice versa.”
“Hmmm, maybe you should bake something for me, then. Let me be the judge.”
“I see what you’re doing.” I snuck a look at him, but his focus was still drilled at the TV, his profile to me, not even a hint of a smile to suggest he was messing with me.
Okay, I’d play along.
I wiggled my toes and stifled a smile when he squeezed them tight. Something—probably his thumb—swept lightly over the top of my foot and hooked beneath