“Mostly breakfast,” I say. “My grandmother always had me help her make it when we stayed over at the ranch.”
“Transferable skills,” Ava says. “If you have a good breakfast repertoire, you can make lots of other stuff too. Including dinners.”
“True,” I say. “But for whatever reason, breakfast is easiest to scale up or down. It’s too much trouble to make dinner for one, so I usually order out.” My eyes drift back to Sami as I chat with Ruby. She’s taken another bite, her eyes starting to lose some of their sleepiness. Is it the coffee or my amazing cooking, aka “use all the butter”?Allof it.
Ruby’s fork clinks against her plate as she goes for her last bite of omelet, and I catch her studying me like she’s trying not to laugh. Right. Because I’m staring at her roommate like a lovesick puppy while she tries to wake up and eat breakfast.
I clear my throat. “Hiking sounds good. Do you like to hike?”
Ruby gives me a knowing look. “Yes. Which is why I’m leaving soon to join Niles on our regular Saturday hike.”
“Right.” Warmth skims over the tops of my cheekbones. “What about you, Sami?”
“Sure. I like it okay. Mainly easy ones though. I’m not a backpacker.”
“Cool. Same for me. We should do one.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Like today?”
I’d meant more in general, but I’m not dumb enough to throw away an opening like that. “Sure, today. It’s going to be in the mid-sixties. Perfect weather for it.”
“I . . . wasn’t, um, I didn’t . . .” She blinks, baby owl–style. “I’m not all the way awake.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two to figure that out,” Ruby says. “I need to go meet Niles.” She stands and scoops up both of their plates. “See y’all later.” Then she’s in the condo, the door sliding closed behind her.
“I’m off too,” Ava says. “Gotta check on something at the lab.”
They leave a big old cloud of quiet behind as Sami takes another drink of her coffee and doesn’t meet my eyes. I definitely wasn’t wrong about her avoiding me.
“So, Sami. Anything interesting and unusual happen in the last couple days that would make you suddenly want to avoid your good-looking and personable neighbor?”
She sputters and sets her mug down, a smile threatening to break loose. “Ahab? No.”
I give her a look of shock. “You made out with him too?”
“I didn’t make out withanyone.”
“Wait, who came over to my house Thursday night? I know you and Madison are both blonde, but honestly, I don’t think I could confuse you.”
“I meant that wasn’t a makeout.”
“Fascinating. Tell me more.”
She taps her finger against the rim of her mug. “It was a kiss.”
I look at her for a few seconds then down at my hands, silently holding up my fingers as I count each one. She interrupts when I get to six.
“What are you doing?”
“So far, I remember at least six separate kisses.” I lift the next finger. “Seven, eight—”
“Stop,” she says, her voice somewhere between laughter and irritation. “All right, counsel. Don’t be so literal. It was more than one kiss. I just meant we didn’t make out.”
“Really,” I drawl, picking up my fork and knife to cut another bite from my omelet. “What constitutes a makeout to you?”
She looks disconcerted for a couple of seconds. “I wasn’t expecting a follow-up question.”
“I’m a lawyer. A good one,” I say with a shrug. “Job hazard.” But it’s also entertaining as hell watching her squirm. “You were saying?”
