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“Please do not ruin my appetite.”
He snorted. A gentle squeeze of his hand accompanied. I was saturated in a rare, innocuous moment and took advantage of it.
“My chapter here has started off unhealthy,” I admitted.
“Better ones could be written.”
“It depends. My pen might have run out.”
“Mine never will,” he bobbed his brows.
I poked his dimpled cheek. “When did I move to Perveville? Where’s the classic charmer-variety carousel of males?”
“And you’d jump on it for what? Snag up a henpecked ol’ cowboy?”
“Don’t like cowboys all that much.” I played along.
“But you’d stop for a hot dog on your imaginary carnival?”
“Where is this going?” I chuckled and picked up my food. Too precious to get cold.
Misha tickled a way up to my elbow right when I ungraciously snacked on another wing. “I see the appeal, is all.”
“Talking about buns is getting you the fuzzies?”
He leaned back, and there he went, gauging the situation again. Me, he was gauging me. “No. But I don’t mind being the sausage. Or be a bun either.”
I frowned and turned my eyes on my dinner. Then did a double take on Misha, who seemed to insert a puzzle piece in my mind that didn’t immediately want to fit.
“Actually, I like it. A lot.”
My mouth formed an O. “So, you’re…”
“Bi. As in experimenting with both sides of the sexes.”
So that was Misha in Rio’s drawing. Did that mean that Rio was also… bi-curious?
I put down my chicken, wiped my hands clean, and curled my index finger around one of his digits. It clasped me tightly.
I wish I could read Misha’s thoughts right now.
Not sure whether he found the person in front of him worthy of some sort of bonding—we inevitably were—or if there was more to this date than I thought.
“I’m as objective as they come.”
His grip strengthened. “But?”
I shrugged, slurping my minty mojito. “Nothing.”
“There’s never nothing, Dita.”
I’d met people during my small dancing career that were as cold as these ice cubes in my drink. They boxed you up and delighted to downgrade other human being. Narrow-minded assholes.
“Steph told me about her dads.” I claimed my integrity.
“That’s about love.”
“Is that why you’re friends with Steph?”
