I put my hand on his head to stop him from getting close again. “The only carrots are right here on top of your head.”
Fitz pats his ginger hair around my hand. “No carrots, only hair. Oh! You meant thecolour!”
“Your hair does glow in the dark.” I let him go.
“It does not. Anyway, carrots don’t glow in the dark. They help you see in the dark.”
“No, they don’t.”
He sits back down, his shoulder brushing against me. “Yes, they do.”
“No.”
Fitz picks his phone up again, and for a moment, I think that’s the end of the conversation.
“Does having a beard help you get dates?”
“I don’t know.”
He types something into his phone. “Women prefer men with beards.”
“Says who?”
“The internet.”
“Because, of course, you can trust everything you read on the internet. I bet it’ll tell you women prefer tall men too.”
Fitz purses his lips as he types something else in. “You’re right.” He sighs heavily. “Well, I can’t stretch myself, so maybe Ishouldtry to grow a beard.”
“Like you have any trouble getting dates.”
Fitz has a youthful sweet-and-innocent vibe about him. Probably helped by the fact that he’s the youngest-looking thirty-year-old in existence. He still gets asked for ID, which is both hilarious and sobering. I haven’t been asked for ID since I was twenty. Interestingly, his height doesn’t seem to be a deterrent. He’s had plenty of tall women give him their number, even though he’s barely five feet four. Whereas I’m six feet two, and Ihatetalking to people unless I have to. Fitz is the exception to that. I’ve known him for so long that talking to him is second nature.
He rests his head against my shoulder. “Are we doing our Valentine’s Day thing, or do you have a date?”
Fitz and I have had a standing agreement for the last ten years that we’ll hang out with each other on Valentine’s Day if neither of us has a date. Initially, we just did what we usually do—watch TV, chat, and maybe drink a beer. Then Fitz decided to cook a meal. He’s a great cook, so I didn’t complain. The next time we were single for Valentine’s Day, the meal was by candlelight. The year after that, he scattered rose petals everywhere. He did it to wind me up, but it was kind of cute, so I didn’t grumble too hard. Plus, it’s fun to watch him try to outdo himself every year. Well, not every year. Sometimes one, or both of us, does have a date.
I let out a groan. “Vanessa wants to hook me up on a blind date for Valentine’s.”
Vanessa is my sister.
“Ooh, who with?”
“Someone she works with. If I knewwho, it wouldn’t be a blind date.”
“Are you going to go on it?”
“Probably not.”
Fitz sits upright and turns, so he’s sitting cross-legged, facing me. “Why not?”
I pull a face. “Everywhere will be packed.”
“So?”
“I hate crowds. And people. And Vanessa will have found someone who’sperky.”
Fitz laughs. “What’s wrong with perky?”
