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“Let me guess, you’re a whiskey on the rocks guy,” I mutter while setting the empty bottle on the tray in front of me.
Cooper chuckles softly. “Close. I usually reach for a bottle of rum before even thinking about whiskey.”
A memory of watching Jack Sparrow dump out a bottle of rum during one of our family movie nights has me saying, “Ah, that must be why the rum is always gone.”
He cocks a brow at me. “What?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t watched thePirates of the Caribbeanmovies. You know Jack Sparrow, right? ‘Why is the rum always gone?’ Ring any bells?”
“I knowPirates of the Caribbean, Adalyn. Maybe not line for line like you, though.” The corner of his mouth tilts into a—is hesmirkingat me?
“If you’re going to make fun of me for my love of one of the greatest series of movies in existence, you can kiss my ass.”
I watch the other side of his mouth lift as he grins, flashing me a view of his perfect teeth and a deep-set dimple. He never even had to have braces when he was younger either. They just popped out of his gums all shiny and straight and oh-so pristine.Lucky him.
I wasn’t so lucky. I got braces when I was thirteen because the kids in my class used to call me Beaver Teeth.
“Have I ever made fun of you before?” he asks.
I tilt my head, blinking slowly. “Is that a serious question?”
“Yes, because you know I haven’t.”
“That depends on what we’re counting asmaking fun.”
“You never make anything easy, do you?” he asks on an exhale.
My smile drips with satisfaction. “Nope. But neither did you or Maddox when you both used to harp on me about the posters on my walls or complain about me trying to get you to invite me to places with you.”
“It would have hurt our street cred to be seen with you. And those posters were creepy. I still shudder thinking about the one you had of Tony Hawk beside your bed.”
I gasp, jabbing my finger into his bicep. My nail hardly digs into the muscle there, but I blink that thought away. “Take it back.”
His gaze falls to my finger briefly before lifting again. “Not going to happen.”
“Tony was everything to me, Sparrow. You can’t talk shit about the love of my life and walk away unscathed.”
He shrugs his shoulder, and I drop my arm to one of the armrests between us. Humour makes the green flecks in his eyes brighter amongst the dark brown.
“You didn’t just nickname me after a pirate.”
“Would you prefer something else? Amy calls you Pooper Scooper, right?”
“Amelia is allowed to call me that simply because I don’t have a choice whether or not to accept it. Special sister privileges and all. But you, Adalyn, cannotcall me that.”
“Fine. Sparrow it is, then. You should take it as a compliment.”
“Would you like me to thank you?”
“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt,” I tease.
He moves a hand to the armrest beside mine. The thick, dark hair on his forearm tickles my skin as the veins in his hand bulge with the movement. I stare at the silver watch cupping his wrist, my interest blaring when I catch the quote engraved along the edge beneath the face.
Even miracles take a little time.
I remember when his mom got him that watch. I’ll never forget the grin he wore when he showed it off to all of us the day after Christmas a few years ago.
“How’s your mom been? Does she know you’re off to travel the world?” I ask, changing topics.
