“This is cute,” I mutter, taking a golf club from the bin.
“He doesn’t look much like a clown. You’ll be fine,” Spence says.
“It has curly hair, a big red nose, and long red shoes. If you had a red nose and shoes…”
He narrows his eyes. “I’d look like a clown?”
“You have the hair.”
Okay, his hair is nothing like a clown’s. His is more wavy than curly, and it doesn’t stick up all over the place. I just like teasing him.
“I thought you liked my hair.”
Shrugging, I say, “It’s all right, I suppose.”
“Okay, I’m going to talk to someone else.”
With our earlier argument forgotten, but not quite over, I watch him strike up a conversation with Brody.
Wren and Mila choose that exact moment to pounce. Both stand in front of me with wide eyes, summoning answers.
“What?” I ask.
Mila’s big eyes bulge, as if she can’t believe I just asked that.
“Why didn’t you tell us he was home already?” Wren asks.
“He came early because he has to stay after the premiere now. It’s okay that he’s here, right? I know you haven’t hung out before.”
This is the first time my two circles of friends have properly spent time together. It’s easier to keep them separate, to not have them talk to each other and exchange questions and theories.
None of them know my parents.
“Duh!” Mila shakes her head. “He’s smokin’ hot, babe. You have to go there again.”
“We’re not having that conversation.”
“Why not? Have you noticed those gorgeous green eyes haven’t stopped staring at you yet?”
“She’s right,” Wren sings.
I casually glance over her shoulder. “He’s not looking at me.”
“Well, not this very second. He and Brody are getting into competition mode.” Wren rolls her eyes. “You’re going to be impossible with this whole thing, aren’t you?”
“Oh, and you were so normal over the Brody thing,” I mutter.
Mila waves her hand at me. “There you go. Just get drunk and marry the guy first.”
“I’m not marrying anyone.”
Quite literally. The revelation hits me hard as a freight train. All these years I’ve been so focused on doing everything I can to move out, I haven’t thought about what happens after that.
How would I get married with a massive secret weighing me down? Could someone accept that they would never have all of me? What kind of life will I have?
Mila tilts her head, over my shit already. “We’re all getting married. The rest of us will invite our best friends. I’m looking at you, Wren.”
“Thanks for clearing that up,” Wren mutters sarcastically.
“Indie, you’re up,” Spencer says.
Thank God. I can’t take much more of this talk. With a fake smile, I walk around the girls, leaving the to glare at me.
“Thanks, Coco.”
Now it’s Spencer’s turn to glare. “No clown names.”
My smile transforms from forced to genuine all for him. “What did you guys get?”
“We both did it in two.”
“Whatever,” Wren says, standing behind me. “Brody so didn’t get a ball in two.”
“Wow, babe, your faith in me is fucking overwhelming.”
She folds her arms. “Why do you always have to swear?”
“Why do you always make me sweary?” Brody’s eyes darken at Wren, and I look away. I know two people who are going to have sex as soon as they get home. “You’re hot when your mad.”
“You’re hot all the time.”
Spencer laughs at their exchange, and he watches me very closely when I take my turn. “Try and hit it directly up the middle or it might bounce off the side and lose momentum.”
I arch my eyebrow. “You’re helping me?”
“That’s surprising because…?”
“Because you’re, like, the most competitive person.”
“Untrue. You once hid my car keys so I wouldn’t beat you to the fair.”
My cheeks heat. “It was you who made the challenge.”
“You play dirty, Indie.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“Will you take your shot or are we all going to die here?”
In the background, Mila scoffs and mutters, “Why don’t I have anyone to flirt with?”
Shut up!
I turn my back to Spencer, my face now hotter than lava. Please say Spence didn’t hear that. Not that he doesn’t know we sometimes indulge in a little flirting.
Mila doesn’t have anyone to flirt with because she’s currently off again with Liam, and she hasn’t realised how much her hottie of a neighbour wants her. How she missed the look Reid gave her at the pub that day, I will never know. His eyes were practically on fire when he saw her. I don’t smoke but I needed one.
I’m not going to interfere… yet. She’ll figure it out.
I swing my club and hit the ball. The thing hits the side, but it doesn’t ricochet off and fall back down. Ha, take that, movie star! I watch it roll along the disgusting operating table and go through the evil clown’s mouth. Only Mila would think this serial killer golf is cool.
“Did it go in?” I ask Spencer, who is on the other side. There’s a chopped off leg that side of the clown, which is next to the hole.
Spencer’s eyes flick up and meet mine. “Nope.”
“Damn it.”
I walk around the clown and scowl at the close proximity of the ball to the hole. It’s about a centimetre away. God, I would have loved to get a hole in one and beat the boys on the first game.
“Unlucky, sweetheart.” His voice is soft, genuine. Not sarcastic.
My mouth parts.
Is this what an embolism feels like?
Sneaking a glance at Spencer, I wonder if he’s realised that he just called me sweetheart. Probably not. Does his character in the movie call Ella’s character that? Never before has that word come out of his mouth.
Why now? Why me? I want those questions answered immediately. Does it mean anything or was it just a slip of the tongue?
He’ll think I’m a desperate loser if I bring it up. He has women throwing themselves at him. Women who can share
