“Where’s Knox?” I asked.
“Outside, talking to your parents.”
“Oh.” I opened the front hall closet and pulled out a jacket.
“Here, let me,” he said, taking it from my hands and holding it out for me.
“Thanks,” I said, peering over my shoulder. He’d leaned in close, and his eyes were closed.
“You smell so good.” He inhaled as if I were a flower.
“Um, thanks.” I tried to take a step away, but his hands remained on my shoulders.
“I know this isn’t ideal, but I’d hoped that, after we eat, I could convince you to meet me somewhere private so we can talk.”
When the front door opened, he removed his hands and I took two quick steps forward. “Ready?” I asked when Knox saw me standing there.
“If you are.”
When we drove up in front of Max & Millie’s, Knox told us to get a table and that he’d park and meet us inside.
“This is your favorite pizza place, right?” Tackle asked, holding the door open for me.
“Can’t beat it.”
“Yeah, it’s my favorite too.”
Millie led us to a booth. Rather than sitting across from me, Tackle sat beside me.
“This is a little awkward,” I mumbled with a nervous laugh.
Tackle scooted closer, crowding me against the wall. “Not awkward at all. I can touch you all I want, and Halo will never know.”
“I think he’ll notice. Besides, who says I want you to touch me?”
“You do.” He moved farther away from me when we saw Knox headed our way.
The guys ordered a pitcher of beer, but the thought of it turned my stomach. “I’ll just have a glass of water with lemon,” I told our waitress, who looked like she was just out of high school.
“You were in here a few nights ago, weren’t you?” she asked Tackle.
“Uh, maybe. I don’t remember.”
“Yeah, it was you.” She continued staring at him long enough that I thought about asking him to move so I could claw her eyeballs from her head.
“Ahem, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, we’d like to order.”
“Sure thing, honeybunch. Go ahead.” She still hadn’t looked at me.
I reached over and put my hand on Tackle’s arm. “Isn’t that funny, baby?” I said in the most annoying, over-the-top, drippingly sweet voice I could. “She called me honeybunch, just like you do.”
Knox laughed so hard he spit out his drink of beer. Tackle put his hand on mine. “Sorry, miss, but I don’t allow anyone to call her honeybunch but me.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it while Knox kept laughing.
“You’re a lucky girl,” the waitress muttered. “I’ll be back in a minute with your drinks.” She walked away, ignoring my request to order food.
I pulled my hand from Tackle’s, picked up my menu, and buried my heated cheeks in it.
“That was great,” said Knox, nudging me under the table with his foot.
The waitress returned a few minutes later with the guys’ beer and water for me. No lemon, of course.
“Chicks,” muttered Knox, noticing.
“Chicks? What are you? From the seventies?”
Tackle laughed and shook his head. “That’s the same thing I told him the other day.”
Both of their heads turned when two women came in.
“That’s who I was talking about,” said Knox, pointing to one of them who had taken a seat but left her sunglasses on.
Tackle fidgeted and looked back at the menu.
“What the heck is her name?” mumbled Knox. Tackle pretended like he hadn’t heard him.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“Just someone we—ouch! Shit. Why’d you kick me?” my brother said to the man sitting beside me.
I was just about to ask Tackle to move so I could excuse myself when one of the women stood and walked toward our table.
“Hello, Knox. Hi, Landry,” she said. Evidently, my cloaking device had kicked in, rendering me invisible.
“Hi. I’m Sloane,” I said, not that she responded. Like the waitress, she couldn’t take her eyes off Tackle.
“Hey, Nick,” he said.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Do you have a minute?”
“Now isn’t a great—”
“I won’t keep you. Just for a minute.”
“Excuse me.” Tackle slid from the booth and followed her into the bar area.
“Her name is Nick?” I asked.
Knox’s gaze followed them. “I remember now; it’s actually Claudette.”
“Why does he call her Nick?”
“It’s her last name. Everyone called her that back in high school. Although, that isn’t her name anymore. She’s married, but of course I can’t remember her husband’s name.”
“Why were you talking about her?”
“I thought maybe that was the woman Tackle was interested in. Then I remembered she was already hitched.”
I grimaced. “Hitched? Who are you?”
“Quit busting my chops.”
“Sure thing, King Cliché.”
Knox didn’t appear to have heard me. His focus was on Tackle and “Nick.”
“Oh, shit,” he said under his breath.
“What?” I leaned forward at the exact, right moment to see Tackle embrace her. “They have history?” I asked.
“You can’t tell him I said anything.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“They were on and off in high school. He’s always had a soft spot for her.” Knox took a drink of his beer. “He’s headed back this way.”
“Listen,” Tackle said without sitting back down beside me. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but there’s something I need to do.”
“Go ahead,” I said without looking up at him.
“I’ll catch up with you later?”
I saw from the corner of my eye that Tackle was looking at me, but I had no reason to catch up with him later or any other time.
“Bye,” I said.
“You need…help?” Knox asked him.
“No, but thanks. I’ll call you later.”
9
Sloane
I managed to avoid Tackle throughout the rest of the holidays by staying at my friend’s place in Boston. She
