Page 22 of Sparks Fly

I set the glass down on the coffee table and leaned forward slightly, suddenly far more interested in this conversation than I had been in anything else all evening.

Sawyer: Kimchi-jjigae with noodles. It’s spicy as hell. Total comfort food. Clears your sinuses and fixes your life a little. My Umma used to make it for me all the time. Traditionally it’s served with rice. But I liked her homeade noodles better.

I loved that learning little things about her and her culture at the same time.

Me: Mines Tacos.

Me: I tell everyone it’s mushroom risotto, but it’s really tacos.

I paused before adding another message.

Me: And pho. I’ve been obsessed with it recently.

Sawyer: Respect.

Sawyer: I make a mean pho.

Of course she did.

Sawyer: Favorite color?

I paused for a moment before answering, tapping the edge of my phone lightly against my knee while I thought about it.

Me: Used to be blush pink. Now I think it’s copper.

Sawyer: Copper. Nice choice. I like it.

Me: Yours?

Sawyer: Kind of a muddy green.

I let that sink in. Honestly, it was the most Sawyer answer I could imagine in that moment, and I liked it.

Sawyer: Favorite movie?

I curled further into the couch, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands as I typed.

Me: Pride & Prejudice. Keira Knightley.

Sawyer: That tracks.

I frowned slightly at the screen.

Me: Excuse you?

The reply took a few seconds longer this time.

Sawyer: It suits you, you would like longing. Soft hands. Staring from across rooms…

I stared down at my phone while smiling in spite of myself.

The accuracy of it landed somewhere uncomfortable and warm at the same time.

Me: Okay, fine.

I picked up my wine again and took another sip, watching the screen while the little typing dots flickered back on.

Sawyer: I’ve got an early start tomorrow. But dinner after work?