She looked up at Quentin in surprise. “You made me dinner.”

“It’s just leftovers. Nothing special. If you’re still hungry afterward you can have the popcorn and pretzels. But I figured someone who regularly eats pie for breakfast could stand to eat a nice round meal every now and then.”

She stared down at the tray again. “I don’t remember the last time someone made me dinner. You even gave me lemonade. That’s my favorite drink.”

“I know. It’s what you ordered at the bar the other night.”

Thinking of the bar made Cat think of Quentin’s friend Sylvie. It made her think of the napkin Sylvie had written her phone number on for Quentin. Where was that napkin now? Had Quentin called the number yet? Would Quentin make a tray of leftovers for Sylvie too?

“So, what are we watching?” Quentin asked, settling on the other side of the couch.

Cat felt strange, nervous and not sure why, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin her night. “Star Wars.”

“Really?” His head was cocked, a funny little smile making his eyes sparkle in surprise.

“What’s wrong with Star Wars?” she asked.

“Absolutely nothing. I just thought for sure you’d have chosen a rom-com.”

“Because of all the romance novels?”

“Um. Yeah.” He looked away.

“And...” she prompted, reaching across the couch with one socked foot and prodding him in the thigh.

“And what?” He still wasn’t looking at her.

“And what’s the other reason you thought I’d choose a rom-com? There’s something you’re not saying out loud. Come on!”

She prodded him again with her foot and this time he caught her by the arch, trapping her foot against his leg and preventing her from poking at him. When he turned to look at her, those friendly blue eyes had a spark lighting them from within. Nerves? Or was it something else?

“Remember that night we first talked? The party?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“When you were in my room you called me ‘cute.’”

“I remember.” It hadn’t made her blush then, so why was the memory of it making her blush now?

“And to me—I don’t know—the tone of your voice or something, it indicated that the kind of ‘cute’ you were talking about was the kind that watches girlie movies with you on the other end of the couch.”

“Oh.” She was all turned around now, like a ship in foggy weather. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying and what exactly he wasn’t saying.

His thumb suddenly stroked hard against the arch of her foot, loosening a muscle that she hadn’t realized was tight.

She swallowed down a gasp, her bottom lip getting caught between her teeth.

“Was I right?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes still on hers.

“Oh,” she repeated, still trying to regain her bearings. “I...don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about it that hard.” She cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes playfully at him. “You should know me well enough by now to know that sometimes I just say stuff.”