Note to hormones: snap out of it.
Graham focused his attention on the screen for several seconds. He’d probably come to the same conclusion she had, and wouldn’t know how to answer them, either.
But then, he started typing.
Describe your perfect day. Sleeping until the sun wakes me up. Strong black coffee and a carb-filled breakfast on the patio at a local café. Maybe a little shopping, especially if there’s a good sale. Would have to include a trip to Nordstrom Rack. A lazy afternoon on the couch binge-watching my recent Netflix obsession, then take-out dinner at home and wine on the porch until the stars come out.
He stopped and shot her what was probably meant to be an arrogant smirk, but his smile wasn’t quite there yet. She just stared at him, shocked as hell.
He sighed and mouthed, Right?
“That’s pretty on point,” she admitted. “Better than I could have come up with, and startlingly accurate. What else have you got?”
Provide one random fact about yourself. I leave half-eaten bags of chips all over the house.
He gave her the side-eye and she burst out laughing. “Yeah, sorry. But we’re not putting that.”
Graham rolled his eyes and hit the backspace key, then typed, I take card games very seriously.
She allowed that one. It was the truth, and it was probably best for anyone she dated to be aware up front.
What’s your biggest pet peeve? Small dogs.
What physical feature are you most attracted to? Forearms.
Heat filled her cheeks. Had he noticed how often she checked out that particular body part on him? Hell, she’d just been watching the veins and flexing muscles as he typed.
Thankfully, he didn’t look at her and kept typing.
If you could choose a superpower, what would it be? Time travel.
Her mouth dropped open and she shifted her gaze from the screen to his face. He was still typing, frowning in concentration as he went, as if that answer wasn’t significant.
It was, though. Could have been, at least, if he’d chosen that power knowing she’d give anything to go back in time to see her dad again. Was it possible he’d just randomly picked it without thinking, or was he more intuitive than he let on?
By the time she looked back to the screen, he’d moved on to a Yes/No section and had answered several questions.
Do you have any tattoos? No
“Wait, how do you know?”
He gave her a look like she should know, and texted her. I’ve seen you naked.
“What? When?”
Come on. It was a couple of years ago, we got really drunk...
What the hell was he talking about? Her eyes must have been the size of grapefruits, because he bit his lip and shook his head.
I’m just messing with you. We all talked about it after Mia got hers, remember? You said you didn’t.
She’d never been so relieved in her life. Not that she was opposed to Graham seeing her naked...but she wanted to be fully present for it. “I hate you,” she muttered, and glanced back at the computer screen.
Do you like to dance? Yes
Are you romantic? Yes
Are you adventurous? Yes
Do you believe in love at first sight? No
Do you believe in yourself? Sometimes
Claire put a hand on his arm. Forearm, to be exact, and damn it was firm. And warm. And just...yeah. Focus. “Whoa. Some of these aren’t right. I’m not romantic, and I’m damn sure not adventurous. Didn’t I just explain one of my nonnegotiables in a future husband is one who doesn’t live dangerously? I don’t do anything that falls in that category. And how do you know I don’t believe in love at first sight?”
He picked up his phone.
You pretend you’re not a romantic, but the episode of New Girl where Nick and Jess finally get together is always on the Continue Watching row of Netflix and anytime a guy has bought you flowers you keep them until all the petals fall off. Why do you think you’re not adventurous?
“Did you already forget what you wrote about my perfect day? I’m boring. The opposite of adventurous. I hate roller coasters. I don’t climb, mountain bike, or ski. I’ve never done anything like skydiving or bungee jumping. The idea of scuba diving makes me want to curl into a ball.”
Agree to disagree on that one, but you should keep my answer. Trust me. As for the love-at-first-sight thing—because you didn’t fall for me the second you saw this face.
Claire scoffed, the last comment effectively distracting her from further arguing the response to the adventurous question. “You didn’t fall for me.”
I don’t believe in it, either.
Their mutual attraction for one another confirmed, not that it needed to be, Claire asked him a more personal question than she normally would. He’d always seemed pretty locked down on the emotions front and was obviously commitment phobic. None of that actually meant he didn’t have feelings, though. Just that he didn’t show them. “Do you believe in love at all?”
He leaned back against the headboard and scratched at his scruff-covered jaw.
While he thought, Claire idly wondered if he’d ask her to shave his face next. Where would that fall on the sexy scale? More or less than hair washing?
More, probably, if she sat on the edge of the bathroom counter while he stood between her thighs, face inches from hers and head tilted just so, the distinct scent of shaving cream and pent-up desire filling the small space...
She nearly slid onto her back and begged him to roll on top of her, saved only by him finally tapping out a message.
Yeah. I love my family and my friends. As for the other kind, I guess I have to believe it exists because I’ve felt it. But while the first two kinds feel good, the latter mostly hurt.
Well, that sucked for him. Also, agreed.
“How did it hurt?”
He shook his head.
Was that why he was the way he was? He’d had his heart broken? Frustration seeped into her tone. “You can’t just say something like that and not explain it. Who hurt you?”
Graham looked as if he wanted to smile. She saw it in his eyes.
Why, you gonna defend my honor?
They were the exact words she’d said to him weeks ago, and for some reason it irritated her.
“Maybe,” she said, mirroring his response back to her. “Isn’t that what friends do?”
He shrugged.
It was a long time ago.
“Not long enough for you to forget and move on, apparently.”
How about this? If I ever run into her and you’re with me, I’ll let you know and you can have whatever revenge your little heart desires.
It had only been one woman, then. Was that better? Or did it just mean that single experience was so bad he’d closed off the road to his heart from that moment forward? Regardless, the thought of sticking it to whoever messed with him sounded vastly satisfying. She balled her hands into fists and pressed them to her smiling mouth. “I can? Really?”
It seemed the injury to his face was improving, because he grinned. It was a little subdued and lopsided and wasn’t a classic Graham smile, but it was better than she’d had since before the accident.
Something inside her chest thumped, and she frowned at the realization of how much she adored it. In a typical day, how many of her smiles were a direct response to one of his?
And if a partial Graham smile did this to her, how would it feel when he was able to give her the real thing?
He searched her face for a second and tilted his head.
What happened? You’re frowning.
“What? No, I wasn’t.”
Yes you were. Tell me what you were thinking.
She shook her head.
OK. I’ll assume you were picturing me naked and trying to figure out logistics of sex with a cast.
“Oh, my gosh, stop.” She puffed up her cheeks and blew out a breath. “It might make you uncomfortable.”
He considered that for a moment.
I can handle it.
“Fine. I was just thinking about how much I’ve missed your smile.”
That’s it?
“Yeah.”
What’s weird about that? I miss it, too. I’ve got a great smile.