Brynn chewed on her lip. “I just… think this could be a really fun idea. Dating. Swapping stories. And…”
Hallie leaned forward, curious. “And what?”
Brynn smiled excitedly. “I did research today on modern dating mores. It’s actually really fascinating. Seems wild out there, but…”
Hallie laughed, unexpectedly charmed by Brynn’s earnestness.
Of course Brynn had researched what went into casual dating. This was the least surprising thing Hallie had heard today, and she smiled reflexively at it. She could say, without a doubt, that Brynn was one of the most interesting people she’d ever met. And it was all without Brynn eventrying.
She was also one of the most blindingly trustful people Hallie had ever encountered, which did not bode well for Hallie not feeling an immense amount of guilt if she tapped out. By saying no, she felt like she was somehow feeding a cute little fish to a piranha. Or leading a lamb to slaughter. Or… Hallie wasn’t exactly sure, but all of her scenarios involved a sweet, big-eyed animal being thrust into the clutches of a menacing predator.
And only months ago, Brynn had unknowingly actually, well, and truly been in the clutches of one of those. Burned and misused in every way a person could betray someone they professed to love. By a man who had asked her to marry him, no less!
And still, she was willing to put herself out there again.
Maybe it was for Brynn to quell the sting of her last few months—which Hallie could not understand at all; she really preferred to lie down and play possum when things got tough—but it didn’t change the fact that Brynn was still willing to buck up and get back in the saddle. Or get in the saddle for the first time, seeing as Brynn had been most recently riding around on a donkey and not a horse.
Hallie grimaced. She’d taken that metaphor way too far in her head.
Focusing on Brynn, who’d stopped batting her lashes and was now looking at Hallie like she held her future in her hands, Hallie cocked her head to the side and wondered why she was so opposed to pushing forward their wacky plan. She’d been tellingSydney that she needed a change, which, if she was being honest with herself, wasn’t going to be by leaving The Stone’s Throw anytime soon. And she wasn’t exactly down to troll The Lobster Trap for casual company. On top of it all, it would be far better to lament what would likely be a terrible idea with someone else making equally terrible decisions instead of the lovey-dovey, newly engaged couple at Cape Canoodle.
Really. What did she have to lose?
She took the tiniest, emotional-growth-fueled step forward when she leaned toward Brynn and blew out a tentative breath. “Who do we have on the chopping block?”
The wattage of Brynn’s smile could only be described as blinding. “There’s actually more than one,” she said, snuggling down to Hallie’s position and holding her phone up in front of them. “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
Hallie scoffed, even as she enjoyed the warmth of Brynn, pressed in close. “Me? Overwhelmed? I’ll have you know that I am the pinnacle of taking things in stride.”
Brynn’s brows drew upward. Her words were gentle even as she challenged, “Last night, you spent forty-five minutes going back and forth on your favorite Disney character, so much so that we had to narrow down the parameters until there was only one choice left.”
First of all, Hallie didn’t remember that, so it shouldn’t have counted. But wow, had she really shown Brynn her true colors last night. She’d watched almost every Disney movie ever made, something she still made time to do. It was a vestige of her childhood, when she’d spent a lot of time here in the apartment, before Sydney had come along.
“Analysis paralysis?” Hallie defended weakly, before asking, “Who’d I pick?”
Off the top of her head, she could name at least a dozen characters who all had excellent qualities. But were they talkingvintage or modern? Cartoon or live action or animated? Did Disney acquisitions like Marvel and Star Wars count? Not to mention that Muppets were technically Disney characters, which made the whole situation even more complicated.
“Alfredo Linguini fromRatatouille,” Brynn said in a pleased tone, cutting through Hallie’s wild and wandering mind.
Hallie only blushed a little bit. Brynn’s approval, for whatever reason, made her feel like she had done something far more impactful and important than spending almost an hour picking something as insignificant as a favorite movie character.
But, she realized, she respected Brynn’s opinion on most things, her taste in men notwithstanding.
So that was going to be an area in which Hallie could provide immense and immediate value to Brynn’s life. Maybe by necessity, even.
Hallie grabbed Brynn’s pinkie to pull the phone she was holding closer to them. “These eyes aren’t what they used to be,” she said in a thin, shaky voice as she pretended to put on glasses.
Brynn laughed and brought the phone up to their chests, her right elbow pressing lightly into Hallie’s stomach. “Is this better?”
Hallie was, by nature, an affectionate person, and there hadn’t really been a lot of places to fulfill that need as of late. And not even in a romantic way. Tactile comfort, she argued with herself, was a completely reasonable and human desire.
But she hadn’t grown up in an especially touchy family, Sydney had lived far away for the last few years and was now glued to Reese, and she didn’t have any other friends she’d snuggle up with on a sofa.
The most physical affection that she’d gotten in the last few months was on Christmas morning, when Elliot had cuddled against her chest while she’d gently patted his back. Right before he’d explosively spit up all over her.
She didn’t anticipate that Brynn would do that to her. Thankfully.
Letting out a soft exhale, she pretended to adjust her invisible glasses. But then her eyes grew wide. “Brynn, you have at least two dozen matches.”
