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"You're thinking about me naked."
"The point stands."
"If it was good enough for Kubrick, it's good enough for me."
My lips press together. "Kubrick, really?"
"Really. I'm not a cretin. I know film."
"I wasn't saying—"
"You were."
I shake my head. "No."
He nods. "A little."
"Maybe, a little." I let my knees tap together. "You don't seem like a Kubrick fan."
"You either."
"Because I love Harry Potter?"
"Well, yeah." He takes a step closer. "Kubrick movies are cold, unemotional. Harry Potter is full of heart and guts."
"I don't like Kubrick movies."
He smiles. "I figured."
"Do you?"
"Not really."
"Too boring?" I suggest.
He laughs. "Because I have a short attention span?"
"If the taste in movies fits…"
He nods. "They're a little dry." His lips curl into a smile. "And you don't like them because they're cold, and you already do enough thinking all fucking day. You want movies to make you feel something."
It's a perfect description of why I watch movies, read, listen to music. Only I've never thought about it in those terms.
I'm always thinking. And it gets exhausting. Being able to turn that off and get lost in a book and feel—
That's why I read.
How does Joel know that?
Until this very moment, I didn't even know that.
"How did you know that?" I ask.
"You think I don't know you 'cause we met two days ago?"
"That's not a reasonable conclusion?"
"It is." His lips press together. "But reasonable conclusions aren't always right. If I saw you at some club, in that tight all business dress, those work heels, the glasses and the bun—I'd think you were some uptight chick who wouldn't beg me to come on her tits."
