“No,” I said quickly. The only thing worse than thinking about kissing Delaney was arguing with him, which was how we’d inevitably end up. “I declare a renovation ceasefire for the rest of the night. Let’s…” I blew out a breath. “Let’s play your drinking game. But I’ll go first.”
Delaney waved a hand like he couldn’t care less. “G’head.” But I noticed a distinct tension in him that said he wasn’t as cool about it as he wanted to appear.
All the questions I wanted answered swirled in my head—Why are you so defensive all the time?Why are you so pigheaded? Have you thought about kissing me before now? Do you want to kiss me again?—but of course, I wouldn’t ask any of those.
What finally popped out surprised us both. “Where’s the best place you ever traveled?”
Delaney’s eyes lit up as he considered my question, like I’d handed him an unexpected gift.
“Oh, Peru,” he said with zero hesitation. “A tiny,tinyvillage called Huacahuasi in the Andes. I went there for a story about illegal logging, and I ended up staying for almost three weeks.”
“You?Lived in a remote mountain village for three weeks?”
I couldn’t picture it. As far as I knew, they didn’t do silky pajamas or sticky notes on Tupperware there.
“To be fair, it was supposed to be threedays, but shit happened. As usual.” He rolled his eyes. “Got to Lima fine. Met the guide I’d arranged to take me into the mountains. But his truck broke down two hours’ hike from the village. No cell service, so he hiked me up to the village, told me he’d be back as soon as he could, then hiked back down the mountain to see about his truck. The first day, I fell in an irrigation ditch and broke my glasses?—”
“Holy shit, Delaney. Seriously?”
He scowled. “Yes, seriously. This is my job, Brewer. I do whatever I have to do to get the job done.”
“No, I know. I—” I shook my head. I didn’t know how to explain that I was both impressed against my will and weirdly, retroactively protective. The thought of him alone and vulnerable made something fierce stir in my chest, not because I didn’t think he could handle it—obviously, he had—but that he’dhadto. “Sorry, continue. Still waiting to hear how this becomes yourfavoriteplace.”
“Because it was beautiful, once I got over that first hiccup and let myself notice. Mountains rising up all around, mist rolling through in the morning. Green, green, green everywhere. And the people there were amazing. They fixed my glasses, found me a place to sleep, gave me info for my story…” His face took on an abstracted look. “Every night, the village would gather after dinner, and the adults would talk as the kids ran around. I didn’t speak the local language, but most people spoke some Spanish, and I can smile and nod with the best of them.” His smile was soft and… something else that I didn’t fully understand. Wistful, maybe? “It was nice. For a little while.”
“Wow,” I said inadequately.
When his eyes focused on me again, he looked faintly embarrassed. “Don’t get me wrong, I practically wept with joy when the guide came back and took me to a hotel with hot water and electricity and cell signal. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I echoed. I sipped my wine, still trying to parse that soft smile.
“Now.” Delaney’s smile took on a distinct edge. “My turn.”
I knew exactly where this was going. “Yes, fine, I was singing ‘Defying Gravity.’ It’s my favorite song from my favorite musical.” I paused and considered. “One of my favorites.”
“Oneof?” His eyes widened. “You’re a closet musical theater junkie? Have you always been?”
“Not closeted,” I said firmly. “About anything. Not talking about things isn’t the same as keeping a secret.”
Delaney gave me a speculative look. “Isn’t it?”
“No. And no, I wasn’t always into it, but I dated a guy who thought I needed more culture in my life. He took me to seePhantom.” I shrugged. “Turned out I liked the culture better than the guy.”
Delaney’s eyes, shiny with alcohol and excitement, narrowed. “BestHamiltonsong?”
“Huh?”
“It’s a simple question, Brewer.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and said loftily, “If you reallyarea musical theater junkie.”
Once again, startled laughter escaped me. “Uh. I don’t know if I have one. ‘Quiet Uptown,’ I guess?—”
“Hmm.Wrong. I mean, technically, it’s an opinion question.” He grinned. “But the correct answer is ‘Wait for It.’ If you’re a true fan.”
“Ah.” I nodded soberly. “Noted. Thank you for correcting me. So, what’syourfavorite musical, then, true fan?”
“Pfft.” He waved a hand with tipsy carelessness, and his fingers brushed my arm. “Hadestown.”
This was such a random conversation. There was no reason my heart should be racing. No reason why I’d moved so close to Delaney that even in the low light, I could count the freckles dusting his nose, could see the faint stubble on his jaw, could almost taste the wine on his breath.
