Page 66 of Gunnar

“Not really.” I shrug. “I’m not exactly the kind of girl guys like to date.”

“Why not?”

“I’m too serious,” I say. “I don’t giggle about trivial things. And I’m not very good at pretending to be helpless.”

His brow furrows. “Why would you pretend to be helpless?”

“A lot of guys like that,” I say dryly. “Some women make themselves smaller so men can feel bigger.”

Gunnar stares at me. “Why doesn’t the man just be bigger?”

I laugh. “That’s an excellent question.”

He studies me for a long moment.

“You’re strong,” he says finally. “As strong as a she-bear.”

I burst out laughing. “Well, I seriously doubt that.”

He shakes his head. “No. You’ve got balls.”

“Thanks,” I say. “But my friends and I prefer to say we’ve got ovaries.”

He goes still for a beat.

Then he laughs.

A deep, genuine sound that fills the room.

“Right.”

He tilts his head, studying me again.

There’s that crinkle at the corners of his eyes.

Gunnar glances toward the window.

“Come on,” he says.

“Where?”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

He nods toward the dark outside.

“You should see the sky tonight.”

I look at him across the table.

There’s a lifting, tingly feeling inside me.

Then I push my chair back.

14

Alexandria

I’m wearing a massive jacket that comes down to my knees. The sleeves are rolled three times, and I’ve wrapped it around me tightly and belted it, instead of zipping it up.