Sign Me Up by Dulcie Dameron
Parker
couch, coffee in hand, with my laptop propped on my legs when Dane shuffles into our shared living space. His head tilts my way for half a second and he flashes me a peace sign. I lift my chin in acknowledgment and go back to my novel, trying to work out a plot hole.
I’m so engrossed in the task, I barely notice when Dane lowers himself to the other end of the couch, his own coffee near his lips. He takes a sip, then holds up a finger like he wants to keep my attention.
After setting his mug on the coffee table in front of us, he signs, “Heard you had a good night last night.” His eyebrows bob up and down like I’m supposed to know what he means by that statement.
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
He cocks his head and narrows his eyes. “I think you do.”
I take a deep breath and close my laptop. Who have you been talking to.
A slow, sinister sort of smile crosses his lips. “Mom. And Logan.”
I purse my lips and look away, thinking over how to address this. Yes, I did, in fact, have a good night with Jamie last night. Introducing her to my family went way better than I expected. But something changed while we watched Mom’s favorite drama, something that made her pull away from me—physically and emotionally.
She seemed embarrassed when she left, refusing to meet my eyes, and scuttling toward the door as soon as the show was over. Maybe it had to do with the way I pulled her feet into my lap. Making her uncomfortable was the very last thing I ever wanted to do, but if I did, I should apologize. Then Logan kept sending me weird looks while Mom beamed as bright as the sun. I had to get out of there almost as fast as Jamie.
What did they say?I finally sign to my brother, hoping they said more to him than they did to me.
He hikes a shoulder and picks up his coffee again. “Oh, just that you two got awfully cozy on the couch last night. Apparently, she really likes your foot rubs.” He winks and I have the sudden urge to slap the coffee mug right out of his hands while simultaneously punching him.
Whatever goes on between me and her is our business, I sign, defending Jamie in the only way I know how. He quirks an eyebrow and goes back to his coffee before turning on his phone and scrolling through what I assume is the day’s news.
What would make him, or Logan or Mom for that matter, think she really enjoyed what I was doing to her feet? She didn’t give off those vibes when she pulled them off my lap, a blush coloring her cheeks. Had she said something I didn’t catch?
Feeling the need to speak to her, I pull my phone out of my pocket and send her a text. I know she’s at the farmer’s market right now looking for a sibling for Beatrice. Or maybe it was a friend... Anyway, she always peruses the portable shops every Saturday until they close down at the end of October. So she may not see my text until she sits down for brunch with Daria. Either way, I want to check on her.
Parker:Good morning, beautiful. Thanks again for coming to family dinner last night. My mom says that you’re the sweetest thing since they invented candy. eye roll emoji
I bite my lip, wondering if the addition of beautiful will throw her off. I’ve never referenced her looks before, at least not that I can remember. But if I’m going to make her fall in love with me, I’ve got to start expressing my feelings—just as subtly as possible so she doesn’t outright reject my advances since I’ve been thoroughly friend zoned.
I scroll through social media when she doesn’t text back right away. After a full minute, my phone buzzes in my hand, her name flashing on the top of the screen.
Jamie:You have impeccable timing. You literally just saved me from one of the most awkward moments of my life.
My interest piques.
Parker:That sounds serious. What happened?
Jamie:Can’t talk yet. Still with Mike.
Annoyance flares to life in my chest, making it hard to think straight. Why is she with him?
As long as I’ve known Jamie, she’s been a creature of habit. Sometimes I wonder if she likes the predictability of a routine because that’s how her grandparents raised her or if it helps to ease her anxiety. Either way, she always goes to the market with Daria on Saturday mornings, eats brunch while she reads a romance novel or blogs, then spends her Sunday afternoons with her Pops at the care center. If I’d have thought guys were allowed to tag along to the market, I might’ve invited myself.
I blow out a frustrated breath and run a hand through my hair. No, I wouldn’t have done that. Because I give her the space she deserves to be herself and enjoy time with her other friends. I’m just teeming with jealousy over the thought that Mike, her tool of an ex, is with her right now.
Maybe they aren’t even at the farmer’s market. What if she’s at his place?
My fingers tingle with the need to text her back and ask what the heck is going on. But what right do I have to ask that question? I’m not her boyfriend. We aren’t anything but friends.
Would a friend text her and ask her what she’s doing with him, veering from her usual market and brunch routine?
A shove to my shoulder jolts me from my invasive thoughts. “Why do you look like you’re about to murder something?” Dane asks.
Because I feel like I want to murder something.I don’t sign that, but I do think it.
No reason,I respond as casually as possible.At that exact moment, my idiot brother swipes my phone out of my hands and jumps up from the couch. By the time I can wrestle him to the ground and pry it away from him, he’s already read the text.
“Is Mike her ex?” he signs when I sit back on my heels, out of breath from tackling him.
I could ignore him, but what’s the point when he’ll just pester me until he gets an answer? Yes.
“Why is she with him?”
I rise to my feet, shoving my phone in my back pocket and tugging on the ends of my hair. Dane’s questioning makes my initial annoyance flare into outright anger. I don’t want to be this guy. Jealous. Overbearing. Insecure.
And yet thinking of Mike putting the moves on Jamie again has panic swelling within me so fast, it steals the breath right out of me. When I spin to face Dane again, he signs, “Maybe she has a good explanation. You should ask her.”
I shake my head. It’s not my place. She has to work it out with him without my interference.
“I get that, but you’re her friend—her concerned friend—just checking in on her and making sure she's okay. She just said you saved her from an awkward interaction with him. What if he showed up somewhere out of the blue and it made her uncomfortable?”
My brother’s words aren’t doing anything to snuff out my swiftly rising anxiety.
“Dude, you could be her knight in shining armor right now if you play your cards right,” he finishes, looking smug.
I don’t have any cards. This isn’t a game.
He gives me a chiding look. “I know it’s not a game, I’m not saying that. I’m saying check on her. See how she’s doing and why she’s with him. If there’s a way you can help, do it.”
I consider what he’s saying for all of half a second before I park myself back on the couch and text her again.
Parker:I know you said you can’t talk, but just tell me if you’re okay. If he’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll be there ASAP.
Her text comes through almost immediately.
Jamie:I promise, I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it later. Thanks for being an awesome friend.
Friend.The word hits me like a brick to the chest. It’s what I want to be to her, it’s what I am to her, but what I wouldn’t give for her to let me be so much more.