I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

“Oh, my thumbs work just fine,” I said, digging my left one into the arch of her foot. “Perfect for massages.”

“And we’re back to cocky,” she said with a grin, flopping backward on the couch.

“I prefer to call it confident in my abilities,” I said, winking at her as I rubbed her feet.

“Don’t do that again,” she said seriously.

I immediately let go of her feet.

“No, keep doing that,” she said, nudging me with a foot. “Don’t wink.”

“Don’t wink?”

“No. It’s creepy.”

I sputtered, “What?”

“Winking is creepy,” she said, wrinkling her nose a little. “It’s weird.”

“I’ve never heard that before.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes, really,” I replied. “No one has ever called me creepy before.”

“You’re not creepy. Just the winking. It’s like the universal disturbing gesture of everyone’s weird uncle,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I really like you,” I said with a sigh, smiling back at her. “But I’m not sure if this relationship is good for my ego.”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But I bet your personality improves exponentially.”

Dear God, I’d met my match.

Chapter 6

Sarai

Alex was incredible. I stared at him happily as he spoke, my feet still in his lap.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, throwing his hands in the air, “if you’re putting a bunch of salt and pepper on your food, you’re pretty much telling whoever cooked it that it sucks.”

“That’s not true,” I argued, laughing as I pointed at him. “Some people like things spicier than others.”

“Fine,” he said. “But salt? Come on.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

“Exactly,” he said in satisfaction.

“Okay, you might be onto something.”

“I am.” He shifted a little, then went back to softly rubbing my foot. “It’s rude to add a bunch of seasoning.”

“What about condiments?” I asked thoughtfully.

“Don’t even get me started,” he said with a huff.

I had no idea how our conversation had morphed into a debate about food, but I couldn’t deny how much I was enjoying it. I loved learning more about him, even little things. The smile on my face faded, though, as he shifted again, trying to get comfortable.

Alex had grown more pale as the night went on, making his tanned skin look sickly. He was trying to ignore it or maybe just hide it from me, but when he shifted for the tenth time in about fifteen minutes, I couldn’t brush aside how much pain he was in any longer.

“You need to go home,” I said softly, cutting off his opinion about putting ketchup on eggs.

“What?” he asked with a confused laugh.