it was bad, she started inviting people over and no one ever left empty-handed. By the time she was gone, all that was left were a few nightgowns and some shoes.” He concentrates on the necklace, his jaw twitching. “I was kind of mad at her for doing that. But I don’t think I could have done it myself anyway. If it’d been up to my dad, we’d still be using her perfume as air freshener.”
Bo watches me for a moment before yanking on the leg of my chair and pulling me closer to him. He wraps his arm around me and I ease into his frame. My breathing hitches a little, but that voice in my head that begs me not to let him touch me is nothing more than a murmur. His lips press against my hair, sending calming vibrations through me.
“Am I interrupting something?” Mitch stands in the doorway with a brown grocery bag clenched in his fist.
I pick my head up so quickly that I hit Bo’s jaw. “I’m sorry,” I say, but to which of them I’m not sure. Panic sinks all the way down to my toes, holding me in place. “Hi,” I say to Mitch. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
Bo stands, rubbing the spot where my head collided with his. “I better get back to work.” His voice is rigid.
The tension between them buzzes like an electric fence.
Mitch doesn’t move out of his way, so Bo squeezes past him. He watches Bo go before stepping through the doorway. “The guy at the front told me you were back here.” He drops the bag on the table, and whatever’s inside rattles for a second. “I got you some magic supplies. For your talent.”
I try too hard to keep my voice light. “Sit down.”
He doesn’t. “Who was that guy?”
“Bo. We work together.”
His two brows crinkle into one. “Do you like him?”
“What? We were talking, Mitch.” I sound defensive because I am. So we kissed once. We hold hands sometimes. That doesn’t make us anything. And yet maybe it does. It’s not like he caught me making out with Bo or in a state of undress, but I feel just as guilty.
“Do you?” he asks again.
I tuck my hair behind my ears and take a long moment before I answer. “I do.”
He shakes his head and pulls down on the bill of his baseball cap. “Good luck with the pageant, Will.” He turns on his heel and exits through the nearest door, which happens to be the employee exit.
My heart aches from losing one of my precious few friends, knowing all too well that if this is anyone’s fault it’s mine.
That night, Bo drives me home in silence.
I’m halfway up the driveway when I hear his door slam shut as he says, “I wish you would give me an answer.” He circles around the front of his truck.
“What?” I walk back toward him. “We have to do this tonight?”
“I want to be with you,” he says. “But I can’t if you won’t let me.”
“Why?” I drop my bag in the driveway. “Why do you want to be with this?” I wave my arm up and down the length of my body. Immediately, I hate myself for this. The only person making this about my body is me.
“Because I like you. I think I might feel a lot more than that for you, Willowdean. How is that so hard to believe? When I can’t fall asleep at night it’s not because of work or school or Amber or Bekah. It’s you. You’re the one that drives me crazy.”
I shake my head because it makes no sense. “Have you ever thought about what people will think? What they’ll say when they see us together holding hands?”
“You never struck me as the type to give a shit what everyone else thinks.” His jaw twitches for a moment before he lowers his voice and says, “I want to go everywhere with you. I want to show you off. I want to wear a cheap suit and be your escort for that ridiculous pageant.”
My teeth chatter. I’m trying so, so hard not to cry. Because it’s all there. I like him. He likes me. But there’s so much more. I can’t believe it even matters to me, but I’m not going to be skinny anytime soon, and I shouldn’t care. I’m pissed that I didn’t just throw myself at him right here in my driveway.
But I refuse to hate him