She pursed her lips as she seemed to think that over.
“So maybe, what you need to feel more confident with your crush is to have some more experience talking to guys.”
“I talk to Jax every day,” she said.
I shot her a knowing look. “Guys who you don’t think of as a brother.”
And please do not tell me you think of me as a brother.
I shook off that thought and turned back to the television.
She was quiet for a moment but then I felt her shift beside me, getting more comfortable as we both turned our attention to the TV. “My dad’s a film director.”
I turned to look at her. “Really?”
She nodded, her gaze focused on the screen. “Or, he was.”
“What happened?”
“Me.” She shot me a little rueful smile. “He still worked on some indie films for a while after I was born, but then my mom died and he had to take care of me so he moved us out of the big city and here we are…” She shrugged as if that was the end of the story.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She looked over at me with brows arched in question.
“About your mom,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She blinked a few times. “Thanks.”
We both looked at the screen and I could only blame the cozy comfort of Cary Grant’s image on the screen and the quiet, incessant dialogue in the background because suddenly my mouth opened and…it happened.“My dad died a few years ago.”
I felt her still beside me. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged as if it was no big deal. As if my world hadn’t come to an end that day. As if I made a habit of telling people about the worst experience of my life.
As if this wasn’t the first time I’d told anyone about my dad since moving to this town.
“How?” she asked.
“Car accident.”
She let out a long exhale. “That sucks.”
I gave a short huff of a laugh because...yeah. It sucked. What else was there to say?
We sat in silence for a while but it wasn’t awkward. It was kind of...sweet. Especially when she shifted a bit so her arm was resting against mine. I knew without a doubt that she wasn’t trying to make a move, she was just trying to give some comfort.
The thought made it hard to swallow.
“I didn’t know,” she said after we’d watched an entire car chase scene. “About your dad, I mean.”
I knew what she’d meant. I looked over but only saw the top of her head and the corner of her glasses. “It happened before we moved here. It’s why we moved.”
She nodded.
I could have just dropped it. I could have let it go…
“And I never told anyone.”
Her head swiveled in my direction. “No one?”
I shrugged. “Not at Lakeview.”
I felt her gaze on me as I pretended to watch the movie. My eyes were on the screen but my mind was racing to figure out exactly what was going on here. Years of keeping silent about anything that actually mattered, and now...here I was. Spilling my guts to a girl who liked some other guy.
“You didn’t want people feeling sorry for you.” She didn’t say it as a question, but a statement and I didn’t argue the point.
Truth was, it had started off with me not wanting to see sympathy in my new friends’ eyes. I didn’t want another round of pitying looks like I’d gotten at my old school before we’d moved.
But then it had become so much easier to just...keep my distance.
Simone shifted until she was facing me fully and I was forced to look her way or rudely ignore her. I looked.
I shouldn’t have.
Her eyes were wide behind those glasses, and despite the flickering reflection in her lenses, I saw it. Sympathy.
It wasn’t pity, at least.
And maybe it was actually more like empathy.
“Is that why you’re all…” She waved a hand. “Aloof?”
“Aloof?” I repeated with a scoff. “No one has ever called me aloof.”
She shrugged, unrepentant. “But you are. I mean, you’re really nice about it—”
Ugh. Nice. There was that word again.
“You’re all smiles and laughs,” she said. “But really...you’re kind of just watching on the sidelines, huh?”
I stared right back at her because...crap. This was not how I’d expected this night to go. I definitely hadn’t expected to be psychoanalyzed.”
She leaned forward slightly until she was so close all I would have to do was shift forward if I wanted to kiss her…
Her eyes were lit with amusement—maybe even excitement. “Everyone thinks you’re so popular and so cool, but really....you’re on the outside looking in.” Her eyes widened. “Just like me!”
She looked so happy about that fact, so genuinely pleased, that I couldn’t even argue.
Also, I couldn’t argue because she was sort of right.
Okay, she was totally right.
And the fact that she knew it and was currently gloating made me want to kiss the heck out of her.
So...there was that.
I wanted to kiss Simone.
I drew in a deep breath as she sat back on her heels to study me. “Maybe you and I have more in common than I thought, Mr. Nice Guy,” she teased.
I smiled because it was impossible not to when she was grinning at me like that. But my brain snagged on the ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ part.
I was nice, sure. But I wasn’t so nice that I would sit back and hand this girl over to some guy who didn’t deserve her.
Not when I wanted her for myself.
And I did. The weight of this new realization shifted, like by acknowledging it, something heavy in my chest lifted and a light, dizzying happiness swelled up in its place.
I liked Simone.
For real.
For the first time in maybe forever—definitely since my dad died—I really, truly liked a girl and I actually wanted that level of connection. I stared at her profile for a long moment as I absorbed this new reality.
Her attention was caught by something on the screen and I was free to watch with a goofy grin as she acted out a
