Page 34 of How You See Me
I try gauging if she’s being serious, but her body language gives me no clues. “What is it?”
“Don’t freak out.” She rotates fully toward me, bright smile locked and loaded, and my freak out is definitely looming. “Do you like cake or ice cream best?”
Of course, she’s not being serious. That’s her ammo—disarm with fun. I wonder if she’s ever been serious about anything—other than Jordan and her fears.
“Definitely ice cream."
“I’m a cake girl, myself. Red velvet with rainbow sprinkles baked in. It’s impossible to find, so I special order it sometimes.”
“To eat by yourself?”
One slender shoulder lifts and lowers. “I shared with Jordan before he moved out.”
“What about before you moved here?” I ask casually, fishing for more information about her life and testing her commitment to being open with each other.
She doesn’t even hesitate. “No. My friend is too New York chic to eat something so unrefined. Speaking of Grant, I should text him and let him know I’m on my way.”
“Why didn’t you ride with him?”
Her thumbs fly across her phonescreen. “He’s on his honeymoon. We’re meeting there.” She sets the phone down, not missing a beat. “Question number two. Sunrise or sunset?”
“Rise. I get up early every morning for workouts.”
Her entire body recoils. “How early?”
“Before said sunrise.”
She groans. “You’re not doing that on this trip, are you?”
“I’ll be quiet.”
“Whew. I’m a night owl, so sunsets for me. When you pass out from exhaustion around eight p.m. like a grandpa, I’ll try to be quiet, too.” She grins at the dig.
She maytrynot to disturb me, but I have a feeling she’s never been quiet a day in her life. There’s too much sparkle inside her to ever go unnoticed.
“We’re only five years apart, you know?”
“Maybe so, but you’re an old man in the fun category.” Thinking nothing of the insult, she yanks the bun out of her windswept hair and starts putting it back up into a ponytail. “When was the last time you did something spontaneous or outside your norm?”
Knowing the truth will cause more questions, I consider lying, but I’ve never been good at that. “The night we danced.”
Her hands still in her lap, her chest moving with shallow, uneven breaths. Both shifts are subtle, but I notice. I notice a lot of things about her.
Her eyes dart nervously around the van before she resumes her usual relaxed demeanor. “That’s it? We barely even swayed.”
But it was enough to send my system into overdrive. Shouldn’t that count? “It was outside my norm.”
“Me, too. Despite what you may think.” She continues when I scoff. “I’m not usually that forward. Grant dared me.”
“That’s why you asked?” The question tumbles out, disappointment lacing the words sharp enough to bite.
I thought she asked because she wanted to, not because she was playing a game. While I felt something magnetic toward her that night, maybe it was one-sided. Not that it matters. Holding her again shouldn’t have left such a deepimprint on me. Nothing could come of us even if she’d shown an honest interest that night.
“Grant thought you were hot and wanted to see if you’d reject me or if all those women would make a scene. He wanted some entertainment.”
“I don’t like this guy.”
“He’s a good person and cares about me. He’s just opinionated and brash.” She checks her phone and types something before setting it back in her purse.
