“It’s not a problem. I can cook. I could teach you if you’d like?”
“Can you?” she asks seriously. “I didn’t know that.”
“Well, my current roommate is pretty territorial in the kitchen, so I try to make myself scarce. I think she’s trying to prove her domestic skills.”
She laughs. “She probably learned that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I bet she’s trying to improve her cooking skills to keep you interested.”
“It’s not necessary,” I say. “She could screw up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I’d still think that woman walks on water.”
“Well, Forrest, that’s…problematic.” She purses her lips and shakes her head.
“What?”
“Two minutes into our conversation, and now I know you have the hots for your roommate.Red flag,” she mouths.
Laughing, I stretch out on the bed beside her, careful to maintain a respectable distance. “Let’s forget about my roommate for a minute.”
“Fine,” Sora says with a cute smirk. “We’ll circle back to that later. So, are you from around here?”
“Your bedroom?” I ask. “I wasn’t born here, but I know my way around. Are you looking for some tourist attractions? Because the important parts are the vibrator hidden underneath the caboodle in the nightstand cupboard, and the secret stash of candy bars in the locked cashbox underneath the bed.” I point to the door leading to the bathroom. “The key is hidden on top of the doorframe.”
“I hate you,” she deadpans.
I burst out in a deep belly laugh again. “In all seriousness, I grew up in Wyoming, but came to the big city to be a hotshot lawyer.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
“Had a moral crisis, tanked my career before it started, became an escort instead. You know, the usual career trajectory.”
“Naturally,” she says with a solemn nod.
“And you?”
“I’m a born-and-raised city girl. I walk or take cabs. My driver’s license is purposeless outside of getting me into R-rated movies and buying occasional wine coolers. But you know what I’ve always regretted? Not learning how to drive a stick shift.”
I sit up, suddenly excited. “Yeah? I’ll teach you.”
“You will?”
“Absolutely. My old truck is still parked at my dad’s ranch. It only runs if you sweet-talk it and sacrifice a quart of oil to the automotive gods. Perfect learning vehicle. If you can drive that thing, you could drive a semi.”
She giggles. “Sounds great. The only problem is last time I checked the map, the cab fare from Manhattan to Wyoming is a little out of my budget.”
“How about we fly? Next weekend?” Rina loaned me more than enough to fly my girls home.
Her eyes pop wide open. “What?”
“I know it’s a big step for a first date,” I say, watching her carefully, “but I want to take you home to meet Boone. Wyoming is beautiful in the winter. Cold as hell, but beautiful.”
Her smile grows to the point her cheek muscles look strained. “I’d love to go. It sounds like a perfect first official date.”
“Good.” I reach for her hand again, my thumb tracing familiar circles on her palm. She leans in closer, her lips relaxing as she flutters her lashes. I disappoint her with a brief peck on the lips.
“What the hell, Forrest?”
“I’ve been thinking about something else… Some rules we should implement.”
“Rules?”
