I bit my lip, trying to keep my smile from growing.
“Tell me.” He set down his pencil and eyed me with the tiniest hint of impatience.
“Just still trying to picture you on vacation,” I admitted. “Do you have sandals to match your bathing suit?”
He rolled his eyes. “I hope this is making you feel better.”
“It is,” I said, turning back to him and smiling. The corner of his lip quirked up ever so slightly.
“Sorry for the short delay, but we’ll be taking off soon.” The flight attendant peered over at us from the aisle. “Anything to drink?”
“No thanks,” he grunted.
“We’ll have two champagnes, please,” I said at the same time.
The woman winked and went back to the front.
When Harrison glared at me, I just shrugged in response. “What? It’s going to be a long enough flight as it is. We might as well try to enjoy it.”
“I don’t drink champagne.”
“Too girly for you?” I fluttered my eyelashes.
“It’s too sweet.”
“Anything is too sweet when you’re filled to the brim with bitterness.”
He scowled, which just made me laugh.
“You’ll live,” I said just as the flight attendant returned and handed us two glasses.
He ignored me, but he took the glass before shutting his book and setting it to the side of his tray table.
I nodded at it. “You draw a lot?”
“Oh, uh.” He eyed the sketchbook and then eyed me. His brow softened slightly when he took note of my genuine interest. “Yeah, I do. It’s always the quickest way to pass time for me.”
“I take it you wouldn’t let me see any of them?” I asked carefully.
His dark eyes widened, but he didn’t get angry like I worried he might. Instead, he just gave a quick shake of his head. “Sorry, I don’t really like sharing them.”
Instead of pushing, I just smiled. “I get it. I used to sketch more in high school, and I never liked showing anyone. It’s personal.”
We sat in silence for a moment before he tipped his head toward my book. “You read a lot?” he asked.
“I try to. I wish I had more time, but I’m always working. Do you read?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “Usually heavier stuff.”
I rolled my eyes exaggeratingly at that. “I read all sorts of books, Harrison. And I can promise you, this—” I held up the colorful book and shook it at him. “—this is exactly what you want while soaking up rays in the Mediterranean.”
“Looks really educational,” he mused. Thankfully, there was no condescension in his voice. Was Harrison actually teasing me?
I snorted. “You’re such a snob.”
At this, he turned his whole body to face me. “You’re telling me that’s the height of literature?”
“What does that even mean? It’s fun. It’s compelling. I love the characters. Plus, reading a fluffy romcom is a great distraction from my own depressing love life. Do you ask yourself every time you pick up a book if it’s going to betheheight of literature?” I said the last words with a bad British accent.
