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“Are you saying I’m difficult?” I try to smile, but my hand throbs. “I’m only answering if you answer them too.”
Cole traces his finger over the back of my injured hand again, circling just where the thumb and forefinger meet. “When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?”
His fingers trail around the same spot.
“A ballerina.”
All at once, Cole pinches the back of my hand and plucks out one of my splinters. I start to protest, then stop.
“Hey, that kinda works. My hand doesn’t hurt more than it already did.”
Cole smiles softly. “It’s a neat little trick. Sarah taught me to do it when I was a kid.”
“Just because it worked doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Answer the question. What did you want to be when you were a kid?”
He grins. “A doctor. But I soon found out that I can’t stand hospitals. So that dream died a quick death.”
“I see.” I give him a lopsided smile. “You’re doing a great job of doctoring right now.”
“Thanks,” he murmurs. He opens my palm again. His free hand begins tracing circles around my kneecap.
I feel like I’ve swallowed my tongue.
“Where do you want to be in two years, Savannah?”
My brows shoot up. My brain starts working overtime. “Oh! I guess… I mean, I want to always stay close to the South Shore. But I’d like to work somewhere that makes a difference. Or go back to school for social work? I’m not–.”
Lightning fast, Cole pinches my knee. I’m too startled to feel the splinter sliding out of my hand.
“Really sure,” I finish.
“You’re doing well, Sav. One more big one.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Ah. Well… fair is fair. Answer the question.”
He looks uncomfortable for a second. “I am in talks to move to London. You already know that. I actually had a phone call today with an agency that wants to talk about making me a full partner in exchange for bringing along my client list. So… that was interesting.”
My breathing falters as my heart stumbles.
“Oh!” is all I can come up with. “That’s… nice.”
His gaze narrows. “Sav….”
“Can we do the last one please?” I lay my palm flat against his lap. “That way we can get back to what we were doing.”
He lifts a brow at the same time as he starts tracing gentle circles on my thigh. I stare at his hand for a minute, trying to control my racing heartbeat.
Cole leans close and his warm breath tickles my face. “Is there a small part of you that liked riding my lap, Savannah?”
My eyes go wide. He smirks, pinches my thigh, and then moves the tweezers in a blur.
“Ow!” I cry, although it didn’t actually hurt.
“Shh.” He puts the tweezers down, and rips open one of the alcohol wipes. I feel the sting as he carefully swipes at my palm.
When he begins to attack my wound with antiseptic ointment, I square my jaw.
“That question wasn’t fair,” I say.
