He paused for a second, then seemed to remember something. His eyes narrowed. “Are you hungry?”
“Nope.”
“How about we talk first, then eat later?”
“Sure!”
Winona strode right into the living room and flopped onto the couch.
Keaton, wearing straight-leg jeans and a crisp new shirt from the latest V collection, padded into the kitchen in his designer slippers—seriously, those things cost more than most people’s cars. He came back with two cans of craft beer, handed one to Winona after popping the tab for her. She didn’t hesitate, just downed the whole thing in one go.
Before Keaton could react, she snatched his beer right out of his hand and chugged that too.
He stared at her, stunned. “Whoa—Winona! What’s going on? You okay?”
She looked up at him, and her expression had totally changed—her eyes were red and glassy, like she was about to burst into tears. She looked so small and vulnerable all of a sudden.
“Keaton, just tell me the truth. Are we actually friends?”
Keaton’s heart skipped a beat. He was a total sucker for a pretty face in tears. “Of course we are! Why would you even ask that?”
She pressed on, “Then did you know your parents are trying to set us up?”
Keaton hesitated. “Yeah, I know.”
Winona glared. “And you never thought to tell me?!”
He shrugged, looking sheepish. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s not like we’re actually going to date or anything. They’re not forcing anything, just let them dream. It’s not affecting us.”
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