Page 63 of Coming for You


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I shift a little more onto my stomach so I can face him better. “It’s really easy. We just take turns asking each other ‘what’s your favorite’ and whoever is asking gets to fill in whatever they want as long as it starts with the current letter we’re at in the alphabet.” Sloan picked it up at two, I’m sure he can sort out how to play from here. “I’ll start. What’s your favorite apple?”

“Fuji. Do you have to answer too? Or do I just go right into the next question from here?”

“Next question.” I hold up my hand. “Oh, unless we need to break for discussion. Which we don’t here. I wholly agree. Fuji is the apple of apples.”

“Obviously.” Now that I’m entirely on his chest and no longer laying on his arm, he moves it behind his head to prop himself up a little. “Alright. What’s your favorite breakfast?”

“Cinnamon rolls. But only if they’re homemade and fresh from the oven.” I furrow my brow and narrow my eyes. “And I mean ‘homemade’homemade, not popped from a paper can, and dropped on a tray.”

“You don’t have to keep clarifying the obvious,” he teases.

“Whatever. My turn.” I drum my fingers over his chest, thinking. “What’s your favorite car?”

“1970 Chevy Chevelle SS.”

“That’s very specific.”

“I know what I like.” He grins and leans forward to kiss me. “Me again. What’s your favorite dance?”

“Like, to do or attend?”

He looks confused.

So, I try again. “Like, are you asking me if I prefer prom or homecoming?”

He laughs. “No. I want to know your favorite way toshake that ass.”

“I mean, I thought that’s what you meant, I just wanted to make sure.”

He pinches my side playfully. “Are you gonna answer or what?”

“Salsa.”

“Really?” He sounds intrigued.

“Are you opening it up for discussion?”

“Nope. Just enjoying the visual I’m having based on that answer.”

I shake my head at him, trying for stern, but the goofy way my mouth keeps insisting on stretching across my face isn’t conveying it well. “Okay, what’s your favorite Easter candy?”

He almost laughs at that one. “Reese’s eggs.”

“Did they even have those when you were a kid?”

He makes a strange sort of snort meets gasping sound. In any event, I’m pretty sure I’ve offended him. “They came out way before I was born! Like, over a decade before.”

“Alright, alright.” I throw my hands up in surrender. “I wouldn’t know, my brother has a stupid peanut allergy, so I didn’t even know about Reese’s cups until I was a teenager and got to try them at a sleepover.”

He shakes his head at me, nostrils still flaring indignantly. “Favorite failure.”

“As in, my favorite thing to have failed at?”

“Yep.”

“That’s a good one.” I like when I have to think about it. “My favorite failure. Hm.”

“Nothing coming to mind?”