Tortillas.
Tacos.
He fucking packed a taco picnic because I told him they were the one food I could eat for the rest of my life.
The realization causes warmth to bloom in my chest.
He’s looking at his phone, and I see his eyes snag on something before they move further down the screen. “Okay, I’ve got it. If you came across my profile on Tinder, would you swipe right or left?”
“No way that’s your question,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m not answering that.”
“Oh, come on, Isa. I thought it would be an easy one!” He gives me a knowing smile.
“I feel like you’re fishing for a compliment here.” I cross my arms over my chest and raise my eyebrow.
“Am I?” he asks with a lift of his chin and that smile only growing wider. “For all I know you’d swipe left. We’ve never had this conversation before, so how do Ireallyknow your answer?”
Forget that warmth I just felt. I hate him. This is his idea of torture. Must be. I let out a sigh but grumble my answer. “Right. I’d swipe right.” The beaming smile he shoots me only makes me roll my eyes. “Anyone in their right mind would.” His chest puffs at the compliment, and I point an accusing finger at him. “Don’t let that go to your head though.”
“I would never.” He winks before leaning in close, invading my senses with his cologne once again, and dropping his voice lower. “I’d swipe right on you too, clearly.”
I roll my eyes, trying to pretend the low timbre of his voice doesn’t completely set my body alight. I buy myself time to think of a question by plating up a taco and some chips.
“What’s your favorite type of music?” I ask, popping a chip into my mouth. “Your walk-up songs have been all over the place that I can’t actually figure it out.”
“I expected better of you.” He shakes his head.
“What do you mean?” I ask around a bite.
“That’s such a softball of a question. I wanted something harder hitting from you at this point in the game, but that’s fine. I’ll let you ease in and answer your lame question anyway.”
“Lame?” I scoff. “It’s not lame. It’s an important part of being friends, knowing the kind of music the other person listens to.”
“Mhmm, I still think it’s lame, but whatever you say.” He takes a bite of his own meal while thinking on his answer. “I would say my typical music taste is more like alternative or alt-rock, I guess? I don’t really know actually. I tend to listen to so many different things, but I prefer something that has a good beat and helps keep me motivated. I only ever really listen to music when I’m in the gym anyway.”
I nod along while I nibble another chip. “That makes a lot of sense. And I could see it.”
“What about you?”
“Personally, I enjoy Paramore and similar vibes. Things that are angsty and rage-y.”
He laughs. “Got a lot of anger you need to channel through music?”
“Honestly, kind of,” I say with a chuckle. “I typically listen to music while I’m working on my admin tasks, so it captures the whole vibe of me not wanting to deal with people’s bullshit.” I shrug. Lifting my drink to my lips, I pause when Ryan grabs his bottle of water and taps it to mine in a cheers.
“Here’s to not taking anyone’s bullshit.” He smirks as he takes a sip, before recapping the bottle and setting it down.
“So, what’s your next one then?” I ask, taking another bite.
“Have you ever been in love?”
His question shocks me to the point where I nearly choke on my food. I’m almost certain he’s joking, but his face looks entirely serious, if not even a little nervous to have asked.
“That doesn’t seem like a very friendly question,” I hedge.
“I beg to differ,” he argues. He continues before I get the chance to refute. “Liz and Jordan know the answer to that question, don’t they?”
“I—well, yes?” I answer, confused.
