Sarai was funny and sarcastic, but I’d never heard her say anything mean. Intelligent, but she didn’t act like a know-it-all, even though I knew without a doubt that she was smarter than I was.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, leaning my head against the back of the couch as I looked at her.

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling. No argument or preening, just confidence in her own worth. “I find you very handsome as well,” she said teasingly.

“Thank you,” I mimicked. But I wasn’t as comfortable with compliments as she was, and I couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped my lips.

“Are you embarrassed?” she asked with a surprised chuckle. “Mr. I’m So Sure of Myself?”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Yes, you are. You’re practically blushing!” She stretched her foot across the couch and gave me a little nudge with her toes. “What happened to the guy who couldn’t believe I turned him down for a date?” she teased.

“Number one,” I said, grabbing her foot before she could pull away. I ran my finger along the bottom of it, making her squirm. “I’m not embarrassed. And number two…yeah, I was really fucking surprised.” I laughed as she snorted.

“What?” I asked, beginning to massage her foot with both hands. “I don’t get turned down much.”

“Ha!” she said, getting more comfortable as she lifted the other foot so I could reach both. She stretched out on the couch and crossed her arms behind her head, leaning back against a throw pillow. “You’re not everyone’s type.”

I met her eyes, my expression completely deadpan, but didn’t reply.

In response, she snorted again and wiggled her toes. I liked that little snorting sound she made; it was fucking adorable.

“I don’t usually ask someone out if I think they’re not interested,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“Fear of rejection, huh?” she said with a little laugh. “What in the world gave you the impression that I was interested that night? We barely spoke.”

“Actually,” I replied, giving her foot a squeeze, “I try to respect people’s boundaries. If I don’t think someone is interested, I don’t want to make them uncomfortable by making a pass. And you were interested that night—you were basically staring.”

She sat up quickly. “I was not!”

“Sure you were. I could practically feel your eyes burning a hole in the side of my head while I ate.” I was full of shit. She’d barely noticed me while we’d been inside the restaurant. It wasn’t until we were outside that I’d thought that maybe I had a chance.

“Perhaps it was because your table manners are atrocious,” she said.

“My table manners are impeccable,” I shot back. “Sushi is hard to eat with chopsticks.”

“Not if you have opposable thumbs,” she replied just as quickly.