Carson’s gaze lifted from mine toward the source of the sound, and he smiled, which made my stomach sink—and not in a good way. I didn’t want him smiling at her, which was more alarming than any thought I’d had all day.
“What’s up?” he answered.
I swiveled around in my chair to get a glimpse of the intruder. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a sleek ponytail. She wore skinny jeans that could rival a second skin and three-inch heels, with an itty-biddy sweater that was one arm-reach away from exposing her navel. By her side was Tasha.
Great. The double threat.
“Oh, hi, Mia. I didn’t see you there.”
Was I invisible now? I was sitting right there.
“Yeah.” I lamely waved a paper snowflake in the air. “We’re working on. . .stuff,” I mumbled because it was evident by her expression she wasn’t interested. Her gaze had zeroed in on Carson and she wasn’t leaving his sight.
Everything inside me willed Olivia and Tasha to the coffee counter, to order their double-skinny-chai-almond-milk-sugar free-whatever’s and go, but instead, they closed in on our table.
My life was awesome.
Olivia paused and rested her hand on the table in front of me like I wasn’t even there, while Tasha scrolled through her phone. She probably thought she was too good to even be standing in my presence.
“So, Carson, I heard you don’t have a date for the Snowflake Ball yet.”
My eyes widened and every muscle in my body stiffened at her mention of the dance. Carson must’ve noticed the shift in demeanor because his brow furrowed as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, then back to Olivia.
I pulled my hands under the table and clasped them in prayer. Please don’t let her bring up her conversation with me. Please. If she told him she asked me to mention the dance to him—which I didn’t—he might think it was because I didn’t want him to take her or worse, because I liked him. That couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth. I just forgot. I’ve had a lot on my mind.
“Nope.” He clasped his hands behind his head, reclining in his seat. “I’m waiting, exploring my options,” he said evasively.
I snorted. Must be nice.
“Yeah, I’m not sure who I’m going with yet either,” Olivia purred. “I’ll have to see if anyone else asks.” She pursed her overly glossed lips, and I wanted to groan. Instead, I took a sip of my latte, thinking, could you be more obvious?!
“Aren’t you going with Steve? I’m pretty sure that’s what he told me.”
Olivia’s face fell as coffee entered my windpipe, and I started co
ughing like an idiot, trying to hack it up.
“Sorry,” I muttered between gasps for air, then bumped Carson’s cup in the process, spilling the rest of his drink.
Crap. I hurried with the napkins, reaching over the table, mopping up the gingerbread coffee. Half-standing, I began to dab at Carson’s lap before I realized what I was doing and froze. The palm of my hand scorched as his eyes caught mine, the blue blazing.
I wrenched my arm back so fast I almost tore it from the socket. Wincing, I noticed Olivia’s glare. Biting my lip, I tentatively glanced up at her, and from what I gleaned in her expression, she was not amused.
“That’s funny,” Olivia said. “Because I saw Mia on her way to your place just the other night and I specifically told her I didn’t have an official date yet. And I asked her to see if maybe you were still looking. Because if you are, I’d be interested.” She pouted her lips and turned her flirtatious gaze back to Carson, and I wanted to puke.
But Carson just smiled and said, “I didn’t know Mia was your messenger.”
I couldn’t tell if he was flirting or annoyed. Weirdly enough, it almost sounded like he was sticking up for me. Either way, Olivia giggled and touched his arm.
“Well, now you know,” she said.
“I will take it under advisement,” Carson said, his smile tight.
“Great. You do that.” Olivia clicked her acrylic fingernails on the table, then with a wink, she turned to where Tasha was impatiently waiting off to the side, and they headed to the counter.
When I finally shoved down my annoyance enough to look at him, I realized he’d been watching me. “What?” I asked, noting the question in his eyes.
“Nothing,” he said, but the lilt to his voice told me it wasn’t nothing.