I blamed it on being nearher.
“Sorry, never mind,” I said with a wince.
Rae huffed and didn’t answer. Tugging at her hair, she undid the pins, laying them on the side of the tub. It fell in a frothy mess as her fingers continued to fluff it.
Mine itched to rake against her scalp. To kneed and massage the skin. Then, I would bring them lower, working the sore muscles of her neck and shoulders. Feeling her relax under my touch—
“So you still hate carrots.”
Her statement caught me off guard. I frowned, trying to sort through the implications.
“Franky said you haven’t eaten them anytime he puts them on your plate,” she added, sinking back into the water until her chin bobbed right above the surface.
Oh, that.For a second there, it almost seemed like she knew more about me than I did about her.
Wanting to level the playing field a little, I turned the questions on her. “I do. What’s your least favorite food?”
The way her body stilled sent a note of caution through me. I knew I touched a chord, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was.
It wasn’t until she let out a strangled sound that a flash of déjà vu slithered under my skin.
“Onion.”
With a soft laugh, I shook my head. “Who hates onion? It’s in everything.”
Her nose wrinkled. It was adorable. “I don’t mind it cooked, especially hidden in a sauce or something, but strings of it? Or raw. Don’t even speak that into bein’.”
I leaned back, throwing both arms over the back of the tub. I couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity. Like this was something from a dream. And while I sure as shit didn’t believe in reincarnation, I was willing to bet money on that at this point.
“Tell me two truths and a lie,” I suggested, wanting to sort through more of this woman’s secrets.
“That’s too much work,” she protested. “My brain is fried.”
My fingers tapped against the plastic. “One truth, one lie.”
“Good night alive! I should have just gone to bed,” she muttered.
“Please.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Okay,fine.” There was a pause while she thought. I focused on her face, ready to memorize whatever tell she used when she lied. “I’m on the run from the law, and my high school boyfriend wrecked my first car.”
I froze.
There was no tell. No small shift to shed light on the truth and reveal the lie.
Impossible.
Everyone had a tell. It was just the dim lighting out here. She wasn’t that good of a poker player.
“I like the first one,” I mused. “Right up my alley. That’s the truth.”
She smirked. “That’s the lie.”
Thinking about it for a second, I wanted to slap myself upside the head. “That’s why you have the no boys driving your car rule.”
“I practically handed that to you on a silver platter,” she laughed. “You sure you’re this big, bad boss in training?”
