I catch Whit looking at it, and I want to tease him about it, but I don’t. Just lean a little closer to him instead.
“Cool, cool,” I reply and then gesture to the screen. “How about that one?” I suggest.
The screen has stopped on a new sci-fi series that I’ve heard good things about. Worth a try.
“Okay,” he says, clicking on it, and it begins to play in the background.
And I should be focusing on what's happening on the TV, but now Whit’s right hand is tapping a rhythm on the couch.
I stare at it.
“You’re doing it again,” I tell him as the opening credit roll.
He clenches his fist, and I sigh.
This guy.
“You’re a nervous wreck,” I tell him and then finish off my beer and open the next one, the top joining the other on the floor.
Whit glowers at the two caps littering his perfect space.
Well, tough titties, dude.
“You want to get those, huh? Put them in the garbage. It’s killing you not to.”
Whit’s lips form a straight line, and he tucks his hair behind his ear.
“I’m fine.”
Scoffing, I finish my second beer as the TV show plays on. I don’t watch all that hard, probably because Whit is moving his eyes from the bottle caps to the TV and occasionally looking at our intertwined hands. Sometimes he even checks out my exposed nipple.
His nervous energy is interrupting my concentration on top of other things.
But at this point, I have a nice little buzz going, so instead of letting it get to me, I nuzzle in closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. Our locked hands are now cradled in my lap, and I start stroking a thumb over the back of his hand.
“You coming with me this weekend?” I ask him when the first episode concludes.
Whit tenses slightly next to me. “Do you need me to?”
“To be honest, man,” I begin, “I’m not sure you’d get away with not showing up. I’m pretty sure if I arrive alone, there is a good chance my cousins will come looking for you. You’ll probably be dragged there despite wanting to come or not.”
Whit sighs next to me and says, “Then it's best I go.”
“Alright,” I say as the second episode begins playing. “They’re going to act like we’re together. No matter what we tell them, they won’t believe it. Just be ready for the harassment. You sure you’re okay with that?”
“I’ll be fine.”
I hum under my breath and then release his hand, pull off my ball cap, and swipe my hand through my hair. Then I stand up and stretch, my tank riding up and exposing my lower belly.
Whit’s eyes flash to it, and then he looks away.
I see that slight flush on his cheeks, but don’t say anything. Instead, I just say, “If you say so,” and then I point to the opposite side of the couch. “Alright, man. Move over there. My back is killing me.”
Whit glances to where I’m pointing, and he arches an eyebrow at me.
“Why?”
“Why do you think,” I say.