“Nobody thinks I’m as funny as you do,” I said.
“That’s because they have no sense of humor.”
“Says the man obsessed with cheese puns.”
Jude shook his head, and then he looked at me and fell silent. He had his puppy-dog-eyes filter set to 120 percent. How did he do that with his eyes? Make them so warm and fuzzy?
“What?” I asked him.
“What do you mean, ‘what’?”
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like…” I tried to make puppy-dog eyes at him. Jude just started looking confused.
“You look like you’re having a stroke. Is that what’s happening? Are you having a stroke?” He had the audacity to look concerned.
“Oh myGod. You are the worst!” I crossed my hands across my chest. “Just take me to Koi.”
“Fine,” he said, starting up his car. He slowly made it around the gravel driveway and back out to the main road. The sun sank beneath the horizon, and the sky turned a brilliant blaze of pink and purple.
I was enjoying Jude’s company, really enjoying it. Had I always liked it this much?
“Why did you stay in Lake Sanguis?” I asked him as his headlights flicked on automatically, illuminating the road ahead of us. As far as I was concerned, next to cheese puns, this was his worst flaw.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you moved to Chicago, you probably could make more money. You’d definitely get more respect. And, bonus, you’d live far, far from Tammy Anderson.”
Jude chuckled a little. “Maybe. I don’t know. My family lives here. I have friends here. I don’t make friends easily.”
I didn’t realize this was something we had in common. I didn’t make friends easily, either. The difference was I didn’t really care.
“People are a nuisance,” I said.
“Even me?”
“Youmostof all,” I teased.
Jude laughed. “See? If I’d left Lake Sanguis, we wouldn’t be talking right now.”
“I’m not ever here, though. Not when I have a choice.”
“You come home every Thanksgiving and Christmas. And sometimes for Olivia’s birthday. Or your mom’s. Or your dad’s. Or Oscar’s.” He ticked off the times I might come back on his fingers.
“Sounds like you’ve been stalking me.”
A little bit of pink appeared on Jude’s cheek.
“No,” he said, defensive. “You’re just fun to hang with.” He thought about this a second. “When you’re not punching me in the throat,” he added as he rubbed the delicate skin of his neck.
“That’s only because there are zero fun people in this town.”
He glanced at me, the puppy-dog-eyes filter on.
He inhaled. “You know,” he said, breaking eye contact and staring at his lap. “I applied for a job in Chicago.”
