Page 66 of Make You Love Me
“You’re welcome.”
Sliding my hand back to my hot mug, I take a sip and fold a leg under me to face him. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I know all your sexual desires like the back of my hand, but very little about your other likes and dislikes, your childhood, your dreams.”
“Nora, I don’t know…” He sets his mug on the browning grass beside the chair.
“Come on. We said we were starting over. Pretend we’re just two new friends getting to know each other, or this is a first date.”
“Must be a new friendship since I don’t remember asking you out.”
I look him over, wondering if he’s about to stomp on the idea. Although his eyes stay trained on the fire, his lips tip up into a smirk.
“I believe today was my suggestion, and I drove and paid. Sounds like I subtly asked you out.”
“Fine,” he says, turning those gorgeous eyes on me. “But an end of date kiss isn’t allowed. We barely know each other, and I deserve to be wooed first.”
“Wooed?” I ask, laughing.
“Courted. Pursued. Wooed.”
“Whatever. I can woo with the best of them.”
His smile drops into a pensive frown like he wants to say something but opts not to ruin the mood. He’s taking me in, surely wondering if I mean it. Time to set the record straight.
“Jordan—”
His gaze turns to the fire. “I hate sushi.”
“What?” My spine straightens in disbelief. “We ate sushi like every other time we were together.”
“I know. It’s your favorite.” He cuts his eyes to me, grins, then goes back to watching the fire. The flames light his face and the lack of anger in his features. He’s not upset, but I feel all the guilt, anyway. It’s just another example of him compromising for my happiness.
“I had no idea.”
“How can you like raw fish so much? It’s disgusting.”
A chuckle burst out of me, shaking my body. I hold my mug over the grass when the hot liquid threatens to splash on my clothes.
“I don’t know. It tastes good to me. What’s your favorite food?”
“Hamburgers.”
“Typical.”
“Shut up,” he teases. “Your turn.”
“All right. My favorite color is purple.”
His eyes take a slow, exaggerated tumble. “I thought we were saying things no one knew.”
“I don’t know your favorite color.” More guilt rushes over me like a cold shower.
“Red.”
“Oh. Well, itisyour color.”
