“Nobody in this town can keep a secret.”
“Oh, were you and Max supposed to be a secret? I might not be the best person to offer this advice, since my attempt to keep my relationship with Drew a secret from my family lasted like a hot minute and ended up with my brother punching him in the face, but the next time you’re at a party with most of the population of Whitford, you guys might want to chill on the smoldering looks, the touching and the leaving together.”
“There was no smoldering.” Tori shoved a huge spoonful of ice cream, chocolate and whipped cream into her mouth, glaring at her coworker over the spoon.
“You looked like a frumpy bag lady with coal smudged on your face and still, when Max looked at you, I wanted to cover Sarah’s eyes.”
“I wasn’t a bag lady. I was Eliza Doolittle. You people have no culture.”
“Every time I looked, he had his arm around you.”
“I was cold. Some idiots decided to have an outdoor party the first night in November and he was trying to keep me alive. As friends do.”
Liz laughed at her and reached under the counter for a stack of napkins, which she set next to Tori. “It’s too bad we don’t have any of those disposable bibs the rib places give out. And zip that hoodie up the rest of the way or you’re going to have jimmies between your boobs.”
Scowling, Tori yanked the zipper up enough to protect her cleavage from falling chocolate sprinkles and shoveled another bite into her mouth. So maybe she should have kept Max at arm’s reach. There was a lot of touching at the party. They’d probably looked like a couple, just without the matching costumes. If she was honest with herself, they’d felt like a couple, and she’d liked it.
And that was the four-scoop problem. It was one thing to like sex. It was another to like couple-type touches—walking around with his hand at the small of her back or his arm around her. That was affection and affection grew into other things. Things that would eventually hurt both of them.
She was halfway through the so-called sundae of doom when Gavin walked out of the kitchen, drying his hands on the full apron he wore.
He looked at her and winced. “This isn’t a good look for you.”
Tori pointed the business end of the spoon at him. “Do I look like a woman who wants to discuss looks right now?”
“You have whipped cream on your nose. And your chin.” He paused. “And your sweatshirt.”
She grabbed a couple of the napkins and swiped at her face. The hoodie she didn’t bother with. The deeper she got into the dish, the more melted the ice cream was and the messier she got.
“You want to talk about it?”
Tori shook her head. What, exactly, would she say? Well, there’s this awesome guy I’m into and I guess he’s into me and we had sex and it was incredible and now I’m drowning myself in ice cream because...
Just because. The disappointment she’d felt when she didn’t wake up cuddled against Max was a problem, as was her annoyance that he’d played the morning-after game so cool. He’d been dressed and ready to walk out the door by the time she woke. Stabbing at a cherry, she swore under her breath. She’d made the rules and now she was moping because he’d played by them.
“I don’t want to talk about it. But I want you to sit down and tell me how the tryout went,” she told him. “You didn’t even text me to tell me you were back.”
“I was going to call you on my break, but Liz said you were out here demolishing our ice cream stock.” He paused, and then a slow grin lit up his face. “They offered me the job.”
Her happiness for him chased away her bad mood. “Gav! That’s wonderful! Congratulations!”
“It’s a huge step. A new job. A new town. It’s three and a half hours away, Tori.”
She reached across the counter and grabbed his hand. “You’re ready for this, Gav. I know you are. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”
“Your hand is really sticky.” He pulled his free and wiped it on his apron. “I already told Mom and Dad. And Paige. I have two weeks to help her figure something out.”
They talked for a few more minutes, mostly about how they’d have to get together and plan his big move. Once he’d succumbed to the ice-cream-coated hug she insisted on giving him and he’d gone back to work, she walked around the counter to get rid of her half-empty dish before the melting caused a dairy tidal wave down the counter.
After washing the counter and her hands, she waved goodbye to Liz and Gavin and walked outside. Whitford was a quiet place on Sundays and she had no idea what she was going to do with the rest of her day.