Page 22 of Waiting Forever
“That’s so cool. I’ve been to London because we have family there and to France but that’s it. I’m surprised you don’t have an accent, living abroad for so long.”
“My mother doesn’t, and we relocated with friends of hers who were also American teachers. All my teachers were American except for an occasional Brit in the mix.”
“Brit.” I laugh. “My dad is the only other person I know who uses that term.”
My phone dings in my pocket. I check it to make sure it’s not from my mother. Nope. Just Nathan. I don’t bother reading the text. Instead, I turn the phone to Silent and set it face-down on the counter.
“Where’d you move here from?” Azure asks after another sip of coffee.
“Dallas.”
“What brought you to Florida?”
I shift on the stool and tug my shirt. “It’s a long story.”
“Got it.” He nods, and again I’m floored by his casual demeanor. After all the drama I dealt with in Texas, it’s welcoming.
“What are you studying?” I ask.
“Language. French and German. I want to be a translator for corporate America or the government, whichever offers or pays more.”
My brows hike up. “You speak French and German?”
He nods and says something in German—based on the sound of it—and then in French and finally in English, “Fluently.”
“Oh my God. No wonder you get hit on all the time. You’re like a triple threat.”
He laughs and has another sip of coffee. “What are the three threats?”
“Duh.” I list them on my fingers. “Smart.” Ryland isn’t easy to get into. “Good-looking, and fluent intwoforeign languages.”
“Three, actually. I speak Spanish, too.”
I throw up my hands and let them fall dramatically to my sides. “I don’t even know if there’s a name for what you are.”
“Extremely thin.” He glances down at his body.
“Pfft.” I wave away his words. “I’ve only just met you and you’re already the coolest person I know.”
“Aw.” He lays his hand over his heart. “Did we just become best friends?”
I gasp. “Are you quotingStep Brothers?”
“You know it?”
“Yes. I know it. It’s hilarious. I haven’t seen it in a while. My ex…” The rest of the words die on my tongue. “It’s a funny movie.”
“It is,” he says, not oblivious to my blunder about my ex, but not bringing it up, either. “So, Red”—he tugs a long strand of my hair—“may I call you Red?”
I scrunch my nose. “Never been a fan of ‘Red’ but if you come up with a cooler word to describe my hair, like Azure, I’m all for it.”
He taps his chin with thought. “I have it.Cerise, would you like a tour of Ryland? It’s just across the street.”
“Cerise.” I repeat the nickname and smile. “I like that. And, yes, I would. I haven’t been there yet.”
“Perfect.” He rises to his feet and is even taller than I thought. At least six-one or six-two. He gives me his elbow and I take it, comforted not only by his easy personality but the fact that he’s not interested in anything from me but my friendship. He might be the perfect guy.
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