Jamie grinned. “So what’s the good shit?” He nodded at the box. “What makes Parker Hoffstraeder’scutthese days?”
“None of your beeswax.”
“Wow! I’m hurt, Parks. I thought we’d gotten past this. Remember that little red treasure box you used to have back when you were a kid? You showed methatback when you were thirteen. All your Magic cards and stuff.” He chuckled to himself. “Wonder if that thing gotdisposedtoo.”
I made a noncommittal noise. “Can we not—?”
“You still have that orange blanket your Nana Mary made you? The one you thought was lucky?”
It was a total throwaway comment. A tease, even. But it hit me funny and made me draw in a breath. There were a limited number of people in the world who knew I possessed an orange blanket my grandmother had made me, and even fewer—as in,one—who understood the significance of it. And it was so wrong that this guy who hated me should have a key to every lock inside my brain.
“Yeah,” I admitted grudgingly. “That’s in here.”
Jamie grunted a little, like maybe the shared memory thing was getting to him too. He cleared his throat.
“What else? Pull something out,” he demanded.
“Uhhhh, how aboutno?”
“We’ve got a ways left to go, Parker, and there are limited things we can talk about.”
“Oh, please.” I snorted. “There is a whole host of things we can talk about. WhichPride and Prejudiceadaptation didyoulike best? How are the Patriots doing in the playoffs? I justcannotkeep up with those Kardashians! You just want me to tell you something so you can mock me for it. Sorry, not interested in contributing to my own demise.”
Jamie refused to be diverted. “Not like you’ve got state secrets in there.”
“That’s what you think.”
Jamie snorted. “Whatever. I bet I can guess.”
“Bet you can’t.”
Jamie gave me a sideways grin and I rolled my eyes. “Your college diploma, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I lied.
“Seashells. From the beach. Boston Beach.”
“Boston Beach. Your knowledge of geography astounds.”
“Whatever they call it.” He waved his hand in the air like it didn’t matter in the slightest.
“Mmm. It’s like you’re psychic.”
“The picture of you with Mark Wahlberg.”
“The what?” I turned my head to stare at Jamie’s profile.
“I dunno. Doesn’t everyone in Boston have to get a picture with him at least once? It’s, like, a requirement?”
“Ohhhh. You mean the photo we’re required to have as proof of residency for our state ID? Of coursethat’sin there. I thought you meant the other pics of me and Marky Mark.” I grinned. “I soldthoseto the tabloids.”
He laughed again. “Naturally. Gotta pad that retirement.”
“Retirement? Dude, you have no idea how expensive Boston was compared to O’Leary. I could barely afford to live,let alone retire.” I shook my head ruefully. “Boston rents are something I don’t miss.”
“You managed to save enough to open a bar,Parkie.” The teasing was gone from Jamie’s voice now. “Couldn’t have been all that bad.”
“I didn’t say it was all bad—”
