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Sonya’s head and mine whipped toward the window simultaneously.
“Absolutely.”
“No.”
We answered at once, and Andrew smirked.
“She’ll be right out.” Sonya nudged me toward the cakes and grinned.
I scowled.
“Meet you over at the bench.” Andrew motioned over his shoulder.
I cut a slice of strawberry and gripped the plate to keep my hands from shaking as I made my way over to where he sat.
“It’s just cake,” I whispered to myself. “We’re in broad daylight, and he’s nice.”
Huxley was nice, the cautious part of me piped up. I couldn’t ignore her, but I tried to forget it for the moment.
“Did you say something?” Andrew asked as he scooted over to make more room for me. “I thought you did, but I couldn’t hear you.”
My face flamed. “Um . . . I was talking to myself,” I admitted, ducking my head down. “Best you know what kind of crazy you’re hanging out with.”
He leaned closer, pressing his arm into mine. I held completely still. The gripping fear I usually felt at a man’s touch didn’t come. This time, it was more subdued. I wasn’t afraid Andrew would hurt me, but I was a little frightened to be this close to him for reasons I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Want to know a secret?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “I talk to myself too. All the time.”
I lifted my head to look at him. He bumped my shoulder. I flinched. He backed off, and I looked away.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said quietly.
He put a little distance between us, and I was able to breathe evenly.
“It’s not you. I’m just . . ." I couldn’t finish the thought. There were so many words to describe me, but I didn’t want to use any of them. I didn’t want to be broken or scarred or damaged. I’d never want to be any of those things. Admitting that I was out loud seemed another victory for Huxley.
“Fascinating. Bright. Beautiful in an angelic kind of way.” I jerked my head toward him, and his cheeks turned pink. “Maybe I should work on my filter. Just until we get to know one another a little better.”
A burst of laughter escaped me. “No.” I covered my mouth with my hand to compose myself. “I like No-filter Andrew.”
“He’s going to take a break so he can quit while he’s ahead.”
“You think you’re ahead?”
“There’s only one fork here. That has to mean something, right?”
“Yep. I wasn’t planning on having any cake,” I said, and his mouth pressed into a frown.
“Should I be worried that you won’t eat your own food?”
“Of course, not.” I lifted my chin.
“Prove it,” he challenged.
I stared at him a moment, determining that he was serious, before I picked up the fork, stabbed at a bite, and shoved it in my mouth.
He beamed, reached for the fork, and took a taste. Thoughtfully, he chewed, his expression turning to one of bliss. “See. We’re sharing.” He pointed the fork at the dessert. “That’s too good.”
Andrew forked another bite, lifting it to my lips. Automatically, I opened.
