Hattie nods, cracks open her water bottle, and takes a sip. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Food grounds me. Gets me out of my head. How did you know that?”
“I didn’t know that, but I do now.” I pick up one of the rolls, tear it in half, and hand her the bigger piece.
Chuckling, she takes it. “I love that you’re a fast learner.”
Love.
The word hits me like a joy taser to the chest.
Even though she didn’t mean it like that, it gives me a clue about how I’d feel if she ever did.
Mind-blowing.
“Oh, yeah?” I tear off a bite of bread with my teeth. “What else?”
Hattie’s liberating one of the meatballs from a kabob skewer. “Wha elsh wha?” she asks around her bite.
“Do you… like about me?”
Hattie laughs, hiding her mouth with one hand, color flagging her cheeks. “Too many things to name.”
I arch a brow. “Too many?
“Yep.”
“Pick one.” I’m grinning like a fool.
She giggles. She fucking giggles, blushing deeper and shaking her head. “You first.”
“Oh, turning the tables.” I help myself to the remaining meatball kabob. “Fair enough.” And I immediately discover exactly what she means.
Too many things to name, but no one’s ever called me a quitter.
“I love how you dance.”
She rolls her eyes. “Like a health hazard.”
Damn, she makes me laugh. “No—” I insist, shaking my head. “I loved watching it and being in your orbit. So exuberant and unafraid.”
On that dance floor with her, her freedom of movement allowed me to shed my own self-consciousness. And just be. In my body.
Her smile is rueful. “I’m lucky it didn’t scare you away. It’s the only thing I enjoy that might pass as exercise.”
I make a face. “Of course it’s exercise.”
She wrinkles her nose. “But it’s not spin class or running, which both Mom and Margaret swear by.”
“So if it’s not what they do, it doesn’t count?”
Her gaze drifts to the side and she presses her lips together, considering. When she looks back at me, it’s with conviction. “Pretty much. At least, that’s what the rule book in my head says.”
“The rule book in your head,” I mutter with a slow nod, ears alert. “How many rules are there in this book?”
Hattie snorts. “Thousands.”
Yep. That tracks.
“And how many do you break on the regular?”
