Page 96 of A Class of Her Own

“How about Brooks? It is your name after all.”

He tickled my sides, and I squirmed in his embrace. “I’m like the pebble in your shoe. You will eventually cave.”

“I’ve already caved enough. I’m standing firm on this. No Hunky Monkey.”

“Not even on special days? Like my birthday or Christmas? Or when I’ve done something especially boyfriend-ish?”

I raised my arms to wrap around his neck and pressed a kiss to his smiling lips, enjoying this exchange more than I’d ever dreamed I could. “Okay. On your birthday.”

He kissed me back. “In that case, seeing as it’s your birthday and all, I’d like to make you happy by calling you Chipmunk for the rest of the night.”

I laughed and let go of him, turning back to grab my coat from the hall table. “Absolutely not.”

I closed the door behind me and locked it. Then we made our way to his waiting car. He held the door for me to get in, and before long we were on our way.

“I’m hoping the little bird who told me that you like Chinese food wasn’t lying,” he said as we pulled out of the neighborhood. “I was going to take you to Mandarin Garden.”

“You were told correctly. I love their food.”

“Great. And then, afterward, I thought we could go to my house for dessert.” He threw me a playful look. “And I’m talking actual dessert, not the kind Ruby means when she says that.”

I chuckled. “It should frighten me how well you already know her.”

“She’s fantastic. All your friends are. Although Aryn’s sarcasm occasionally confuses me.”

“You’d think that as my boyfriend you’d be immune to sarcasm, cynicism, and general pessimism.”

He took my hand and linked his fingers through mine. “Those are your love languages. I’m becoming fond of them.”

Dinner was delicious and perfect, just the two of us at a corner table with noodles, chicken, rice, and shrimp steaming between us. We talked more about his upbringing and family, and he shared with me that he’d started woodworking when he’d moved to Logan after his engagement broke up. He hadn’t had friends, and the winters kept him indoors, so he’d found a way to keep busy. I was slowly starting to separate Brooks’s hobby from my dad’s passion and realizing that the art itself had never been the issue. It made me happy to hear about his projects, which was pretty huge for me.

When we were finished I looked around the table and realized we hadn’t eaten even half of the food.

“Brooks, there’s enough here for two more meals,” I said, looking at him with wide eyes.

His responding smile was all-knowing. “I did it on purpose. This is your first birthday present from me. I know you hate cooking, so you’ll have another day or two of meals that only need reheating.”

I sucked in a breath. “Are you serious?” He nodded. “Why am I so excited to get leftovers as a gift?” I bit my smiling lips.

“I pay attention to things.”

We packaged up the remaining food and carried it out, me practically skipping at the thought of more tiny spicy chicken and imperial shrimp being available tomorrow night. I hugged the bag on my lap on the drive home, and Brooks laughed at me.

“If I’d known this was the way to your heart, I’d have started bringing you takeout back when our war began.”

“I would have suspected poison,” I replied.

“Really?”

I nodded. “I wouldn’t put it past me.”

“Good thing I never tried. There were a few times I wanted to reach out to you and see if we could mend fences, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. Everything about you screamed ‘Electric fence -- approach at your own risk.’”

“That’s the basic message I was trying to convey.”

“It was hard, though, because the first time you came to a meeting, I couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at you. I thought you were the prettiest woman I’d seen in a long time, and I wondered how I’d never seen you before.”

I looked over at him, my face softening. “You’re making that up.”

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