Page 28 of Pick Me
“Aiden’s all set and out on the porch, Webb. I’m gonna go out for a run. Unless… Do you want me to take him to school for you?”
“Nah. Thank you for offering, though, Gage.” Webb stood up and gave him a tilted smile. “I need to talk to him. Maybe middle-namemyselffor biting his head off.”
“Meh. Seeing his dad act like a fallible human’s probably good for him.” Goodman grinned back. “But maybe the promise of a Sunday Sundae wouldn’t go amiss? Just saying.”
Webb slapped Goodman on the bicep. “Good idea.”
“Hey, Webb, I’ll take Goodman to Boston today if it’s all the same to you,” I called fake-casually before I gave myself time to think about how taking Goodman to Boston meantbeing alone with Goodman.Breathing his scent, hearing his voice, stopping every twelve seconds to buy him provisions and pretending I wasn’t more attracted to him than I’d been to anyone in years.Gah.“I have a couple things I’ve been meaning to do down there, and I can get them done in person tomorrow.”
“Yeah?” Webb looked over at me, his attention caught. “What kind of things?”
“Oh, this and that. Friends to visit. A condo to check on. Colleagues to catch up with.”HR documents to sign, I mentally added.
Webb nodded slowly.
“I’m gonna need to stay overnight since I’ll probably have an appointment tomorrow,” I said, thinking about how early I could set up a meeting with HR the next day. “But we’ll be back tomorrow afternoon in plenty of time to help with the afternoon crowds in the U-pick orchard. Does that work for you, Goodman?”
“Sick! Heck, yeah, it works.” Goodman’s eyes widened. “I’ve never been to Boston. Can we do a duck boat tour? No, no.” He waved a hand. “That’s probably lame. Is it lame? Or maybe we could just walk around. Although I’m sure you’ve seen it all a million times—”
He bit his lip like he was waiting for me to say something cutting, and… okay, maybe his chirpy personality was growing on me, because I really regretted being an asshole to him for the past two weeks.
I also deeply regretted letting myself see that the guy wasn’t just sexy but likable, too, because it made it that much harder to keep my thoughts platonic, which they absolutelyneeded to be.
The man’s goddamn enthusiasm was contagious, though, and made me think dangerous things… like maybe this road trip wouldn’t end badly.
“Yeah, fine, we can walk around,” I agreed gruffly.
* * *
“How many more questions are on this BuzzFeed quiz?” I demanded.
I had not expected my regrets over this trip to be so swift or all-encompassing.
Goodman, who was sitting pretzel-legged on the passenger’s seat of my truck and should not have looked so damn comfortable, glanced up from the phone in his lap. “Like… six. Why? You have somewhere else to be?”
“No. But I’m sitting here fondly remembering the days when you pretended to ignore me.”
He snorted. “Who said I was pretending?”
“You did. Your eyebrow twitches when you’re lying.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
I bit back a grin. It really did. “We’re half an hour into this drive, and we’ve only gotten through four questions because you’ve questioned me about every answer, including this one,” I shot back. “I’ve never met anyone who needed to talk so much.”
“We’re getting to know each other better, since we’re beingfriendly.” Goodman crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t care so much about what shape you want your sandwich cut into, I care aboutwhy.”
“And you keep correcting me.”
“Only when you’re wrong,” he shot back. “I want you to lead a fulfilling life, Knox. I’m a giver that way. And to hear you say that you’ve been eating your sandwiches in rectangles all these years and decades and you can’t even tell mewhy…” He sighed, then bent down and rustled in the backpack at his feet, pulled out the largest bag of Twizzlers I’d ever seen, and shoved them in his mouth four at a time. “Vuh unezzamined wife iv noh worf wivving.”
“Thank you, Socrates. How do you eat that junk?”
Goodman swallowed and glanced over at me. “Happily.” He grinned. “You know, Knox, I feel like I’m saving you in a way. Becauseweawwy—” He paused to ingest more strawberry plastic and swallow. “—really, this is how evil geniuses are born.”
I blinked. “Watching you eating Twizzlers? I concur.”
“No, by failing to consider the tiny changes you could make to become happier, like the triangular sandwich. Because if you live your life long enough wondering why other people seem so much happier than you, then eventually yousnap. You build a freeze ray on top of an abandoned paint factory and start filling a vat with stingrays you’ve armed with throwing knives.”
