“You guys down for a horror movie?” Zoey suggests.
As if we just had the exact same train of thoughts, Will and I scoff. Could they be any more obvious? Kendrick nods in agreement, and Zoey begins scouring Netflix. I’m not big on horror movies, always end up not sleeping for a week afterward although I have to admit, I’m glad the boys didn’t insist on watching the game. I don’t know squat about football.
I’ll never be the cool girl who impresses guys because of her sports knowledge. I’m the girl who can eat her body weight in food and still be hungry.
That’s still an impressive skill, right?
“I’m not watching that. Too scary,” Zoey squeals.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Kendrick replies.
I wish I’d choke on a popcorn and pass out.
We’re halfway through the movie when Kendrick circles Zoey’s shoulders and draws her flush into his chest. That’s how I know I’ve reached my daily limit of cringeworthy moments.
I rise up. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”
Morgan glances up at me. “But we still have som—”
I scowl at her, a scowl that she instantly picks up on, as a best friend does, and she smacks her mouth shut.
“I’ll help.”
My pulse quickens when Will pushes off the couch, too.
Crap. He’s following me.
Now I really have to make popcorn.
The second we venture into the kitchen, he kicks the door shut and releases a heavy sigh.
“Jesus. About time. I was dying back there.”
A laugh slips out of me. Good to know I’m not the only repulsed by the idea of Kendrick and Zoey together. I glance at him over my shoulder, craning my neck to catch a decent shot of his face.
God, he’s tall.
How long has he been this tall? Reclining against the kitchen counter, he folds his arms over his chest, staring at me so hard I can feel the weight of his eyes digging into my shoulders as I reach for a water bottle in the fridge.
“What? You don’t ship it?” I bring the bottle to my lips.
“For the sake of the female population, Kendrick should only be shipped with his hand.”
My water goes down the wrong pipe.
“What’s…” Cough. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying your brother’s not boyfriend material.”
I cough some more.
He fights a smile.
“What? And you are?” I say once I’ve caught my breath.
He gives himself a push off the counter, stalking toward me. He stops a tad too close, a lock of blond hair dangling before his eyes as he says, “I could be.”
His eyes flicker with something I don’t recognize. He searches my gaze like I’ve buried the darkest, most troubling secrets inside. Like I’m some shiny new toy he didn’t know he could play with until now.