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I laughed. “Because you’re such an expert?”
She elbowed me in the side. “More than you. Think about it. I know if someone picks a fun flavor combination, like whiskey chocolate or bacon and potato chip, they’re probably a little adventurous.” She ticked off her fingers. “And if they pick safe choices like solid milk chocolate or white chocolate truffles, they’re super reliable and steady. Like Erin,” she added, and I bit my tongue again at the mention of my ex. “Olivia, the dog groomer. Do you know her husband always picks up his best friend’s favorite chocolates for her whenever he flies to Chicago? How sweet is that? He’s one of the reliables, too.”
She talked faster when she got excited about a new idea. “Then there’s the I-like-everything people. They’re the ones who will rock your world or break your heart. Maybe both. They’re the ones who want it all.”
The kid at the counter handed us our food and we walked the short distance to the seating area. “But I like everything. You make me sound kind of reckless.”
Teagan mulled over that and bit the corner of her lip in the way that always made me want to watch her mouth. “You like almost everything.”
“Well, only a sociopath would want black licorice.” I set our tray down on a table, using a napkin to brush crumbs away. “What kind of person am I in a relationship if I like everything except black licorice?”
“I’ll have to think about that. At the very least, not a sociopath. That’s something. I’m sure that’s at least part of why Erin loves you.”
I skirted the comment and tossed away the napkin I’d used to clean the table. When I returned, Teagan was digging into her meal. “So,” I said, as I joined her at the small table. “How are you feeling about leaving? Are you ready?”
Across from me, she unceremoniously shoved an egg roll in her mouth, deep-fried flakes falling across her pink uniform and taking up residence over her breasts.
I glanced down at my own bowl, trying to ignore how I’d taken in the shape of her out of habit, examined how the flakes dotted her chest.
“I’m not,” she said with her mouth full. “But let’s talk about the list.”
I raised an eyebrow before I knew I was doing it. “Is this whole thing a distraction so you don’t have to think about actually leaving?”
She broke her chopsticks apart. “Of course it is. Thinking about someone’s love story is way better than thinking about whether or not I canceled my cable and what is worth packing.”
“Are you packing underwear?” I jumped back when her soy sauce packet squirted, and I narrowly missed getting hit. By the time I looked back to Teagan, her eyes were wide.
“Um, yes, I’m bringing underwear. Why would you ask that?” She lowered her voice. “What do you think I plan to get up to in France?”
I laughed, the memories from years ago coming back effortlessly. “Back in college, you told me you were going to give up packing underwear so you could fit in more notebooks.”
Teagan snort-laughed and her hand flew to cover her mouth, almost knocking over her soda in the process. “I’d forgotten about that. How do you remember that stuff?”
My face warmed. It felt like I remembered everything when it came to her, and I always had. The fantasy of my best friend leaving her underwear at home had plagued my thoughts more than I wanted it to those months I was in France. “It was memorable.”
“Well, lucky for you I have succumbed to the electronic age and one notebook will suffice.” She eyed me thoughtfully. “Well, it won’t make a difference for you, but lucky for the French citizens who will be saved a view of my butt.”
“Attention in the boarding area. Flight 344 with service to Detroit is now boarding.”
“I’m sure some French citizen will probably still get to see it.” I froze the fork halfway to my mouth before shoving the rice in. I wasn’t sure why I said it, and even though Teagan laughed, my stomach clenched at the thought of her finding someone while over there.
She shrugged. “I mean, you met Erin when you went, so maybe luck will be on my side.”
“Anyway,” I said, moving the conversation along after swallowing too much food at once. “We’ve got Ada and... what’s his name?”
“Sam,” she said. “He comes in all the time, so he could have dropped it.”
“So, Ada and Sam, and then Jess and the luggage guy.”
“And the two baristas—I can’t shake the feeling they’re pining for each other, like how they look at each other. It’s so telling.”
“Do you know them?”
“I’m just guessing after seeing them a few times. It’s so obvious.”
I glanced down at my food on instinct. Do I look at her a certain way? “Okay. Where do we start first?”
She bit her lower lip and looked around. “I get off at four. Want to get some coffee?”
