Awkward silence ensues, and she snorts.
“What? You think I don’t know I suck at dancing? I just don’t give a shit.” She glares at Gray, though there really isn’t any anger in the look. “So you can stop dancing like an ass now.”
A strangled sound leaves him. “You knew?”
“Of course.” She tosses a lock of her hair over her shoulder. “You’re too coordinated on the field, and you kind of forget to suck when you do those victory dances.”
He gapes at her for a long second, then gives a bark of laughter. “I fucking love you, Special Sauce.” With that, he hauls Ivy into his lap and kisses her.
Fi, however, finally snaps out of the trance she’s been in since Ivy confessed. “You sneaky shithead,” she shouts over the music. “All these years I’ve been covering for your craptacular dancing, and you knew!” She shakes a fist. “I swear to God, Ivy Weed…”
“Oh, please,” Ivy counters. “You pretend you suck at baking so you don’t have to cook for family holidays.”
Fi sniffs, looking guilty as hell. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ivy leans in, her eyes narrowed. “Midnight cookie baking ring a bell, Tink?”
Fi’s cheeks flush, and she studies her nails with undue interest while muttering something about traitor sisters under her breath. “Those are for PMS cravings and nothing more. I was baking under duress.”
“Right then,” Gray says, smart enough to interrupt before they can go down the dark road that is discussion of their periods. “We’re going to do a duet, Mac.”
Ivy bounces up. “I get to pick the song!”
She runs off, and Gray shoots out of his seat. “No chance in hell, Ivy Mac. Mac!”
Fi rolls her eyes. “She’s going to go all Beyoncé-Jay Z on him.”
I laugh hard at the thought of them singing “Drunk in Love.” “I’m filming the whole thing.” I pull out my phone and get it ready.
They don’t sing “Drunk in Love.” It’s worse. Much, much worse. Or maybe equally horrific.
“Oh. My. God.” Fi’s eyes go wide before she bursts out laughing.
Gray and Ivy have decided on “You’re the One That I Want” from Grease. Oh, they own it, belting out the lyrics just slightly off-key—well, completely off-key in Gray’s case—and totally working the crowd, who are all shouting and lifting their phones to film them. It’s clear Gray has been recognized.
But still, it’s terrible.
Fi and I howl with laughter until my sides hurt and I have to gulp down half my bottled water.
“I can’t believe she knew she sucked at dancing,” Fi mutters watching them, a smile still pulling at her lips.
“Well, when you think about it, she’d have to be blind not to know,” I counter. “I mean, the arm flailing alone…” I shudder dramatically, and Fi snickers, just as I’d hoped.
“Watch it,” she says, her gaze on the stage and a smile in her eyes. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
“Hey, I love her like a sister too. Does that count?”
Fi turns, and her green eyes hold me captive. “As long as that doesn’t make us like brother and sister.”
I lean in until my lips nearly brush hers. “Not even close, Cherry.” I steal a quick, soft kiss and have the satisfaction of hearing her breath hitch.
My satisfaction grows when I pull back and she gazes up at me with a slightly dazed expression. I run the pad of my thumb over the smooth curve of her lower lip. My groin tightens with heat and want.
“You gonna give me an answer soon?”
Her lashes sweep down, and she reaches for her drink. “We’re out now, right?” Green eyes peer up at me. “This is a double date, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
Her lips purse like she’s trying not to smile. “Slick.”
“Not really.” I lean closer, pressing my arm against hers. “Look, I know I’m asking you to go out of your comfort zone—”