“I thought it might be weird today,” she said, her voice a little quieter. A confession. “Seeing you.” “I worried about that too.” “But . . . it wasn’t.” She handed me another plate. “I mean, maybe it was a little weird sitting next to you at the table with our families right there, because I kept thinking about it, even though I was trying not to—” “Same,” I confessed. She stopped what she was doing and looked over at me. “Really? You were thinking about it too?” “Every fucking minute.” The tension between us pulled taut, and I knew I had to say something to diffuse it or I’d end up kissing
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