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I tapped my fingers against the table and looked around the bar. It was packed with young people; groups of all guys, mixed groups, a few couples. They were peppered with the odd older couple or small group, and I picked up my drink and sipped.

Oh. It was good.

I needed that recipe so I could kill my friends with vodka next time we had girls’ night.

“Scanning for a date?” Dylan sat back down at the table, making the stool screech as he pulled it out.

“Hardly. I was bored waiting for you. And I’m hungry.” I grabbed the menu and glanced over it. I already knew I was getting fries and wings, but I still wanted to see what was available.

For dessert, okay.

I wanted dessert, too.

If Dylan was buying, I was making the most of it.

“You know this is twice in one week I’m buying you dinner.”

I peered over the top of the menu. “I’ll cook for you tomorrow. Don’t panic.”

“Don’t panic? I’ve tasted your cooking.”

“Oh, my God. You tasted one meal where I put too much salt in it by accident. I’m an extremely proficient cook, thank you very much.”

“Frozen pizzas are not cooking.”

“I can make pizza bases from scratch. I just tend not to because it’s time consuming and I’d rather be reading.”

“You’d always rather be reading.”

“Yet here I am. And that’s why you’re buying me food.”

We shared a smile.

One that was too warm, too fuzzy, and gave me one too many tingles in all the wrong places.

The moment was broken by the return of my favorite person. She managed to take our order and only touch Dylan’s arm once, but she laughed too much.

He wasn’t that funny.

And I was not jealous.

“If you glare at her any harder, you might turn her to stone.” Dylan laughed quietly.

“Please. If I could turn people to stone with a look, I’d have snakes for hair. Do you know how much fun I could have if I had snakes for hair?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’d let them loose in your bedroom, for a start.”

He shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that. I’m going to have nightmares about it now.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about your little snake phobia.”

“It’s not a phobia. It’s a dislike. And if you say it any louder, people will hear you.”

“Ooh, can’t have the hot waitress hear that you’re scared of snakes,” I said, raising my voice at the end.

Dylan leaned over and clamped his hand over my mouth. “Shh. You’ll ruin my reputation. A couple of my clients are in this bar.”

I pulled his hand off my mouth, but not before I was a brat and licked his palm, much to his horror. “Who? Let me go and tell them the big, fit gym guy is scared of a widdle snakey snake.”

“Yeah, let me rush and tell you who they are,” he deadpanned. “Actually, one of them is single and I think he’d be your type.”

“Mm.” I wrinkled my nose up. “I’m not really into gym-loving guys.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. The only weights you lift are books.”

“Hey, those suckers are heavy. Have you seen the weight of the boxes from our deliveries?”

“Seen them? Saylor, if you’re on your own, you call me, and I come running. You’re not even my girlfriend and you’ve got me whipped.”

“That’s your own fault.”

“That you’ve got me whipped?”

“Well, yes, but also these.” I reached over and squeezed his bicep. “Look at these things. If you flexed them like Popeye you’d take my eye out. You can lift those boxes way easier than I can. Besides, if I hurt my arms, I can’t hold the book I’m reading. It’s why I don’t lift weights. It’s just not worth the risk.”

He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what I expected when I moved to America, but it wasn’t you.”

I grinned, biting down on my straw. “I know. I’m a treasure. I should be a national one, but the White House hasn’t recognized my brilliance yet.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” He shook his head again, but I caught the smile that curved his lips. “You should lobby the mayor. I bet he’ll give you a plaque.”

“I don’t need a plaque.” I held my hand out in front of me and examined my nails. “Everyone in town already knows.”

“And in a fifty-mile radius. I think it’s the hair. It’s a bit of a beacon. And always fun when I need a shower and the tiles are tinted pink.”

I fluffed my pink locks. “Be thankful it’s light pink. That hot pink really makes a mess. Not to mention red. Have you ever seen someone with scarlet hair take a bath? Looks like a murder scene. Holley did it once when we were teenagers and was so freaked out, she literally bleached her hair to get rid of it, then had to cut it into a pixie to save her hair. She was so pissed.”

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