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I clear my throat. “You want a drink?”
She bends over to set the cat down and her shirt gapes, so I quickly head to the kitchen rather than allowing myself a cheap view. There’s no question I’d like to see Twyla’s tits, but not like a creeper.
“Just a water for me.” She follows me.
I reach into the fridge and grab a bottled water for her, sliding it across the island to her.
“Thanks. Just so you know, I didn’t have any luck finding somewhere for Zeus to go while you were gone, but I do have a lead on a family Carly down at the corner store knows, so I’ll follow up on that tomorrow.”
I stop with my water bottle held halfway to my lips. “You know the name of the girl who works at the corner store?”
She shrugs. “Sure. I’m in there a few times a week. Don’t you know her name?”
I shake my head then take a sip of my water. “No. And I’ve been here five years.”
Twyla gives me a cheeky grin. “Well, I guess I’m more social than you are.”
I chuckle. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She stares at me, and I shift in place. “What?”
“You should do more of that.” The look on her face is wistful.
“More of what?” I arch an eyebrow.
“Laughing.”
I roll my eyes. “So how are you settling in? San Francisco starting to feel a little more like home?”
She sighs and sets her bottle on the counter, screwing the lid back on. “Yeah. I’ve always loved this area of the country. I spent my entire life in the same small town. I think maybe I didn’t know how much I needed a change until I came here.”
“What was the sigh about then?” I hold her gaze.
“You’re way more observant than people think,” she says. “It’s kind of annoying.”
“If you say so.”
“I miss teaching. But that has less to do with Connecticut and more to do with how I spend my time and the connection I have with my students. And I miss my book club. That’s about it.” A small frown mars her features. That one negative facial expression feels like a knife to the chest.
Before I really consider it, I blurt, “I could be in your book club.” My cheeks heat.
Her mouth drops open. “You’d do that? I mean, it’s aromancebook club.”
Inside I cringe. But the urge to be the person to fix one of her problems is too strong to deny. “You’ve helped me out with the kitten. It’s the least I can do.”
She gives me a look I interpret as “don’t be ridiculous.” “To be fair, he’s here because of me.”
“Still, if you need someone to be in your club while you’re here, I can.”
She smiles wide and it feels like sunbeams on my face. “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you! I’ll pick a book and drop it off.”
Embarrassed, I push a hand through my hair and look at my feet. “Don’t think anyone’s ever called me sweet before.”
“Well then, they didn’t really know you, I guess.”
The way she says it as if it’s a fact and there’s no disputing it makes me believe that’s really how she sees me. Which feels… odd and somewhat disconcerting, but… nice, maybe?
“So what does a book club involve exactly?” I motion for us to head into the living room and she follows.
“I’ll pick the book, then we designate an amount of time to read it. Then we meet up to talk about it. Whoever picks the book usually runs the meeting and they come up with questions or topics relating to the book that they want to talk about.”
