Page 62 of The Make-Up Test
He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, still wiping his face from the exuberant welcome he’d received from Monty and Cleo. Allison dropped the box in front of him, the tiles inside rattling.
He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure Scrabble is a three-o’clock-in-the-morning game.”
“Scrabble is an all-the-time game.” Allison grinned. “Unless you’re afraid I’ll win.”
“I fear nothing.” He removed the box top and set it aside with care, as if the split corners might cause the cardboard to disintegrate.
Settling across from him, Allison began to shake the lettered tiles out of their velvet pouch while Colin got out the board and the tile holders. One of his knees was bent to cradle his elbow, his other long leg stretched out. The toes of his white cat socks wiggled in the periphery of Allison’s vision.
She nodded at his foot. “Did you ever get that cat?”
“Huh?”
“You always used to say the first thing you were going to do after graduation was get a cat. Preferably an orange one.”
His hand stopped fiddling with the tile holder as he looked up at her. There was something delicate in his gaze that made Allison’s heart flutter. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
She remembered everything, as if their entire history had been carved into her bones.
She shrugged. “I thought it was cute.”
“Thought?”
She rolled her eyes.
“His name’s Captain Pepper Jack.” Colin tugged his phone from his pocket.
“Excuse me?”
Fussing at the screen with his index finger, he turned it her way, revealing a photo of a tubby orange tabby with one eye sewn closed. “I stopped by a shelter right after graduation and adopted him.”
“You did?” Allison didn’t know why she was whispering. Or why her body suddenly felt so disjointed.
“It was the only good decision I made that semester.”
His voice was too soft, and his words too full of meaning. Allison focused on alphabetizing her tiles. “So, Captain Jack, huh?”
“Allison—”
No. She refused to hear whatever had caused his voice catch that way, whatever had summoned the slight tremble to his fingers. “Is that for the one eye?” She switched theGandIin her row of letters. She suddenly couldn’t seem to recall which came first.
A few of Colin’s tiles clacked, and he sighed, but when he answered, most of the heaviness had left his voice. “Captain for the one eye. Pepper Jack because it’s the best cheese.”
Her gaze flew to his face. In college, half their relationship had revolved around arguing over what to eat because Colin couldn’t consumedairy and Allison perpetually craved pizza and grilled cheese. “You’re lactose intolerant. You despise cheese.”
“I have since discovered Lactaid, the ambrosia of the gods.”
She took in this fact, clinging to it hard. It was easier to digest than everything they’d purposelynotsaid a moment ago. Or, more aptly, that she wouldn’t let him say. “I don’t know if you’ve been a true cheese lover long enough to be naming pets after it. You’re practically an amateur.”
He laughed. “I’m honestly surprised youhaven’tnamed a pet after a cheese.”
She flourished a hand at the puppy snoozing on the couch behind him. “Meet Monterey Jack.”
He glanced over at Monty. “Ah, yes, the second-best Jack.”
He was goading her. Allison jabbed her finger against the star at the center of the board. “Stop procrastinating. Let’s commence with this linguistic massacre.” She shot him her most cutthroat grin. “I’ll even let you go first.”
Shaking his head, Colin tapped at his glasses as he studied his tiles. He kept the rack close to his body, like he thought Allison might cheat.
