“Can you skip this one?” he asks, too quick, like he’s already bracing.
“Let me guess.” I glance at the screen, then I look back at him. “One of your exes?”
His expression is wry. “Yeah.”
I laugh, because what else am I supposed to do? “It must be exhausting dating the women you’ve dated.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Why?”
“Well,” I say, tapping the screen as I skip the track, “I just bypassed a hit song for you. Can you even go into a grocery store without emotionally ambushing yourself? Or is that just the soundtrack of aisle seven?”
He laughs. “Do you think that’s all I’ve ever dated?”
“That’s what people keep telling me.”
He tilts his head, thoughtful. “I guess I did go through a phase.”
“A phase,” I repeat. “For me, a phase was dying my hair purple and wearing nothing but sixties dresses.”
He grins. “Oh, I had a phase.”
My eyebrow goes up. “Please tell me more.”
“People who looked incredible standing next to me,” he says. “Very impressive in photos.”
“And?”
“It was beyond exhausting in real life.”
“Funny how the photos and articles don’t show people that, isn’t it?” I watch him for a moment, before remembering something. “Forgot to tell you, I’ve scheduled another reporter to come on Friday. Your ‘people’ called and asked, so I was nice again. Hope that’s okay.”
“It’s okay with me,” he says softly. “As long as it doesn’t cause you any issues.”
Another song comes on. This one is bright and bouncy, all rhythm and optimism, like it was specifically designed to rescueawkward moments. The plants seem to perk up as the beat fills the shop.
Sawyer’s eyes light up instantly, like someone just flipped a switch. The wariness from a second ago vanishes, replaced by that easy warmth he carries when he’s not guarding himself.
“Oh. This one,” he says, already smiling. “Come on.”
“Come on what?”
“Dance. With me.”
I blink. “What?”
“Just dance,” he says, already moving. “We need energy for the next shot. We’ve got one more take. Dance with me.”
“Absolutely not.”
He keeps moving anyway, ridiculous and charming and impossible to ignore. “Come on. Relax. Move with me.”
“Stop it.”
“Juliette.”
I snort despite myself. “You are unhinged.”
“True. But also, I’m fun. Come on.”
