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I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Erase it.”
“It’s already been cataloged.” He double taps the side of his head with his finger. “I have a photographic memory for things I care about.”
“COLE.”
“Are you finished getting dressed yet?”
He makes like he’s going to turn around again, and I emit some kind of squawk that forces him back around toward the door.
I wrench my T-shirt over my head and then sigh. “There.Done.”
He turns and looks at me, and it’s like his brown eyes are equipped with x-ray vision. The layers of clothing mean nothing to him.
I throw up my hands. “This isn’t fair.”
“Want me to take off my pants? Even the score?”
I let out a laugh and shake my head, pointing to the take-out containers.
“For you?”
He walks into the room and holds them up. “Forus.”
My greedy little mitts take the top container, and I bring it to my nose to inhale. “Thank god. I was too tired to stand in line for dinner, and I wanted to shower. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do ...”
“I figured. Tough day in the clinic?”
I groan in agony just thinking about it. “You could say that ... Dr. Missick is a saint as far as I’m concerned.”
He arches both brows. “You didn’t use to think that.”
I lift my chin. “I’ve had a change of heart.”
And not just about Dr. Missick ...
I open the lid on the container to reveal a cheeseburger (smash style) and a heaping pile of thin-cut french fries.Hubba hubba.
“Ketchup?”
He tosses me two packets, and I catch them deftly.
Then we sit across from each other at the small table in the hotel room, and we eat. It’s civilized in a way we’ve never been before. When I run through my ketchup almost immediately (I need a dollop for every bite, obviously), Cole voluntarily gives me his spare pack without me even having to ask. It’s a far cry from my date with Blaze, where he couldn’t remember my name,ohand he was gay.
Notthat this is a date.
I know that.
Cole knows that.
But if itwerea date, it would be a really good one. The kind that feels spontaneous and unexpected, yet perfect. A picnic in the park versus a fancy dinner in a crowded restaurant; a stroll through a quiet bookstore versus shouted conversations in a smoky bar; a movie night where you make it fifteen minutes in and then lock eyes across the couch and turn absolutelyferal.
“This is so good,” Cole says, polishing off his burger in four bites.
He’s almost done with his fries, too, but I don’t want all of mine so I tilt my container toward him in invitation. He takes them with a grateful nod.
“So is this it?” I say, patting my full stomach. “Have we entered the friendship phase?”
