“I told you to stop eating your hand.”
She huffed out a laugh, tucking it in her lap under the table.
“How are you able to ignore it?” he asked bluntly, and although to anyone else the question would be vague and nonsensical, Cat felt vindicated that he was finally acknowledging the voice he used. “I’ve never met anyone who could,” he explained.
“I can hear it,” she said, thinking back to the low hum of Brigan’s voice in Harry’s living room and in the bedroom, both times sounding as if it was coming from every direction at once. “But it’s almost like a voice coming from another room, on every side of the one I’m in. Quiet, deep, vibrating.”
“What do you feel when I speak in that voice?”
“The same thing I feel when I look at you.”
“Which is?”
Cat thought about it more, feeling now how the desire to move to the other side of the booth, to slide in beside him, was nearly irresistible. But also, that it was curiosity above fear, only a desire for him to come closer. “Warm and relaxed.”
“So it doesn’t scare you?”
She shook her head. “When we were ...” She trailed off, blushing.
“Enjoying each other?” he prompted with a grin.
“Yes—during—that—I let you in and it made everything ...”
“Better?”
She nodded, blowing out a breath. “Yes. So much better.”
Brigan sat back in the booth, smiling. “Fascinating.”
With a deep breath, Cat leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table.
“Oh,” he teased, eyes twinkling. “She’s getting settled in.” He mirrored her posture, leaning forward again, resting his forearms on the table. “Shall we begin?”
“Begin?” she asked, laughing. “You’ve already asked me four questions.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “We hadn’t officially started yet. Those don’t count.”
With a soft growl, she relented. “Fine.First question,” she said pointedly. “How old are you?”
He looked surprised; obviously this wasn’t where he expected her to start. “Twenty-five.”
Andshe’dexpected him to be honest. “Yes, but how long have you been twenty-five?”
Brigan grinned, saying cheekily, “A while.”
A laugh burst out of Cat’s throat. “Is this your way of admitting to me that you’ve readTwilight?”
“How could I resist? Vampires and werewolves? I had to know if my friends were portrayed accurately.”
Cat narrowed her eyes at him. “Come on.”
He waved a casual hand. “Truthfully, it was pretty inaccurate. No vampire is all that good looking. They’re hideous.”
“That’swhat’s inaccurate?” she said, laughing. “Not the sparkling or superpowers?”
“Why would the superpowers surprise you?” he asked slyly.
“Yes, okay, good point.” Cat held up two fingers. “Second question: What areyourpowers?”
