Hearing Mallory tell me that her day’s wide open has me smiling like a giddy fool. She could easily say she has plans with her friend to get to. Instead, she’schoosingto stay here with me.
I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch, but if I were a betting man, I’d say that Mallory’s feeling what I am, too—at least to some level.
“It all started on a beautiful summer day twenty-four years ago, when I came into the world.”
She balls up a napkin and throws it at me.
I laugh. “I’m kidding. Okay, other things you should know about me… I could eat chicken wings every single day and never get tired of them. I thought superheroes like Iron Man were real until I was thirteen. I sing in the shower, loudly and unashamedly off-key. I cry every time I see one of those dog commercials with sad music playing in the background. And I firmly believe that a hamburger is a sandwich.”
“Okay, you had me going there until you called a burger a sandwich.” Mallory clicks her tongue. “That might be a deal-breaker.”
I hold a hand to my chest. “Did I say it was a firm belief? What I meant to say is that I’m completely open to changing my mind about the matter.”
For the right person.The words are on the edge of my tongue, but I don’t dare say them out loud for fear of sounding crazy since I literally just met this womanyesterday.
“I was kidding, but good to know you’re open-minded.”
“It’s one of my best qualities,” I tease before leaning back in my seat. “Enough about me. I want to know aboutyou.”
“I’m obsessed with the color pink, which I know you already noticed, but it’s worth stating twice. I can never drive past a McDonald’s without stopping to get a Dr. Pepper. My favorite artist is Taylor Swift, and I met my three best friends at one of her concerts in the sixth grade. I’ve loved ice skating since I was little, but it’s been too long since I’ve done it. My comfort show isThe Vampire Diaries. I won a local pie-eating contest when I was ten, and have never eaten a bite of pie since.”
“Yes to Dr. Pepper, but I’m sad for all the pie you’re missing out on.”
She grimaces. “I can’t look at a slice without feeling nauseous.”
“I’ve already eaten enough pie for a lifetime.” I smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “The real question, though, is are you Team Stefan or Team Damon?”
“Team Damon,” she answers immediately. “I love a good character arc.”
“That’s the right answer.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You watchThe Vampire Diaries?”
I press my lips together, realizing I just revealed my guilty-pleasure show. “I told you I like fantasy,” I say, hoping it sounds convincing.
“You said you want tostarin a fantasy.”
“Okay, fine.” I reach my hand across the table and wrap it around hers. It’s tiny in comparison to mine, and the feel of her smooth skin sends a shiver up my spine. Everything about being around her feels good and natural. It feelsright. “I’ve seen every episode.”
Multiple times—but she doesn’t need to know that.
I lose all sense of time as I continue to get to know Mallory. We talk about anything and everything, and I learn even more random facts about her, like that she thinks a slushie is something you eat, not drink. I even elicit a few laughs out of her that I wish I could hear over and over again.
When my stomach rumbles, I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time, only to find the battery’s dead.
“Do you know what time it is?” I ask.
Mallory pulls her phone out of her purse. “It’s six-thirty.”
I let out a low whistle. “I can’t believe we’ve been here five and a half hours.”
Her stomach growls, and she presses a hand to it. “I didn’t think it had been that long, but apparently, my stomach does.”
“Are you down to grab dinner?”
“I’ll agree on one condition.” Her eyes glitter with amusement.
“What’s that?”
