figured since you can’t go to the bay, I thought I could bring some bay to you.” When I looked over, I saw Walsh biting the corner of his bottom lip, pinching his fingers. Nervous. “I mean, if you’d rather just stay inside, that’s fine too. Or if you just don’t want company, that’s okay. I just thought—I ended up getting the thing anyway, so I thought—”
I reached forward and pressed my hand to his mouth, much like he’d done to me once before, silencing him as I spoke in a rush. “This is singlehandedly the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
With his mouth under my palm, it was impossible to ignore how soft his lips were, unmanageable to pretend that I didn’t notice. The pressure was like a shot of alcohol, thrilling and shocking and powerful at the same time, especially as I felt him smile. One corner lifted along the seam of my fingers.
In that moment, looking at him with the backdrop of the darkening sky, I felt a jolt as I realized how good-looking he was. I mean, I always knew Walsh was good looking—practically everyone in school raved about it—but it wasn’t even just his looks. No, if it was just his looks, he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to buy the pool float, the slushies, and put all this together in my backyard. If it was just looks, he would’ve gone down to the bay and hung out with his friends.
It wasn’t just his good looks; his heart was just as beautiful.
I could write a whole article just on him—beautiful and unique and kind.
Electricity zapped my skin, every nerve responding at once.
Walsh’s eyes were a little wide as I pulled my hand away, soft lips parted as he watched me. “Your eyes,” he whispered, breath caressing in my ears, its fingers running down my spine. “I love them.”
“First my glasses and now my eyes?” I shivered at the intensity of his gaze. My stomach hollowed out at his words, and I couldn’t figure out why he’d said them. Whether or not they were true was a whole other thing, but there was no one around to hear him. “You really know how to get a girl going.”
A small smile rested on his face, so faint I wondered if he knew he wore it. “Come on, let’s sit down before the fireworks start.”
I followed after him, watching as he readjusted the pillows and blankets. In that moment, the dread and anxiety came back and hit me in full force. New words wanted to come from my lips, truthful but condemning. I’m writing an article about baseball, but it’s not what you think. And I can’t tell you, because if you knew, you’d hate me. Drop me like Scott did. And you can’t drop me, too.
“So, my article is coming along,” I told him instead, lying down on the inflatable. I propped myself up enough that I could sip my slushy. Walsh sat down, causing the air inside it to bob, settling beside me. “I hope Mrs. Gao likes it.”
Walsh’s body pressed up against mine, his hair tickling against the pillow. “Are you nervous?”
“Part of me feels…unsettled.” An understatement.
“Pre-game jitters,” he said helpfully, waving a hand at the sky. “I get them all the time, especially just before pitching. But they’ll fade, and you’ll be a rock star.”
He sounded so sure when he spoke, full of certainty, and I allowed myself to relax a bit. Tension ebbed from me, if only slightly. “I hope so.”
We both looked at the stars in quiet for a moment, finally the cover of the sun ebbing away so that they could shine. “I was thinking we could get breakfast before we walk dogs tomorrow,” Walsh murmured to me. “There’s this place in Greenville that makes the best crepes. Mary’s Place, I think it’s called. Have you ever been?”
“I worked there last summer,” I said, taking a small sip from my straw. The rush of the syrupy-sweetness filled my taste buds, the right amount of refreshing. The straw made a clogging sound as it met resistance, and I cringed from how loud the noise sounded. “I’ve never had one of their crepes, though. But you don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“We’re not an actual couple who has to do dates and things.”
Walsh shifted, his weight causing us to sink closer together by an inch. “I know. I want to anyway. Oh, but speaking of, we should take a photo,”