“Uh-huh,” she said in a way that made it clear she didn’t believe me one bit.
“What?”
“If that was a friend, then why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?”
“I never understood that saying. How big is this cat if it’s swallowing a whole-ass bird?” I asked.
She folded her arms over her chest. “And now you’re changing the subject.”
“I’m just saying,” I began, feigning far more interest in the clothes in front of me than I felt. “Could a house cat—even one the size of Earl Grey—consume a bird in one gulp like a boa constrictor? Seems unlikely.”
“You’re blushing.” Her tone was more amused than accusatory.
“And you’re delusional.” I rolled my eyes, but the heat in my cheeks gave me away.
“Who’s the guy? Where’d you meet him? Is he cute?” She fired off her barrage of questions in rapid succession. “What am I even saying? Of course, he’s cute if he caught your attention.”
“Do I need to remind you that I’ll be the singular person in charge of your care one day?” I teased. “Are you trying to end up in a home?”
“It’s worth it if I get to hear about thishandsome suitor.” Her eyes lit up as she made a poor attempt at a British accent.
“Suitor? This isn’tBridgerton.” I heaved a dramatic sigh. “And he’s far from the proper type.”
My mother squealed like she was my best girlfriend—which, really, she always had been.
“What’s his name? What’s he like?” she asked.
I hesitated, enjoying leaving her hanging a little too much.
“Come on,” she insisted. “Humor an old woman. I haven’t had any action since—”
I plugged my ears. “LA LA LA. I can’t hear you.”
“If you don’t tell me who this guy is, I’ll tell you about the time me and Blaze Henderson—”
“Ew. Whose name is unironically Blaze?” I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “Fine. His name is Luca. Luca Sterling.”
She tilted her head, tapping her fingers on the handle of our cart. “Why does that name sound familiar? Is he a friend of yours from group? I swear you’ve mentioned him before.”
“I haven’t. But you might have heard of him.” I dropped my voice low so only she could hear. “Because he’s kind of, sort of famous.”
She blinked, her mouth hanging open. “I’m sorry. What?”
“You know that band Dallas from work was a part of?”
She nodded. “I love them. I listen to them all the time now.”
“Seriously?”
“What?” she asked, pretending this wasn’t woefully weird. “They’re good. That friend of yours, Katie, she’s a lucky girl. I’ve always had a thing for guys with tattoos.”
“I’m gonna try really hard to scrub that from my brain, thankyouverymuch.”
She leaned against the cart. “Hey, I said I’m old, but I’mnotdead. In my head, I’m not a day over thirty-five.”
“Still weird,” I sang, moving down the rack.
“So, wait. Which one’s Luca?”
