He tilted his head, so I could see his hopeful expression. “Twix?”
“You’ll have to fight Maxine for them.”
He shuddered. “Snickers?”
“Now you’re just being greedy.”
“Fine, I’ll settle for the fruity Tootsie Roll things. Nobody likes those.”
He was wrong about that. I enjoyed the heck out of those things. I raided Max’s bucket every year for those little pieces of goodness, then I tucked them into my waitressing apron for long shifts. They had saved a lot of bad customers from my wrath.
Not because the sugar made me happy. No. They were so chewy, my mouth was usually glued together for ten-minute chunks of time.
But I wasn’t going to admit that to Levi.
“All right, free candy aside, why are you here? What do you want?”
He stared straight ahead again. “I had fun with you at Pug’s.”
A fierce blush stained my cheeks. “I barely saw you at Pug’s.”
“Yeah, but those few minutes I got you alone were memorable.” He cleared his throat and then added, “But they always are with you.”
On instinct I slapped his chest with the back of my hand.
“Ow,” he groaned, rubbing the spot. “What was that for?”
“Levi, that was a total mis—”
“Logan loved superheroes,” he said randomly—or so it seemed. “Not the Hulk really. But we had this ongoing fight over Ironman and Captain America.”
I wanted to ask who liked who, but it wasn’t hard to guess that Logan would root for the military guy.
Not knowing how to respond, I folded my arms across my chest and stuck my frozen fingers under my armpits.
“He would have gotten a kick out of Max dressed up like that.”
An icy chill rolled down my already frozen spine. I didn’t know what to say or how to react. Was that just an odd observation about his deceased brother? Or did Levi suspect something he shouldn’t?
Drop it, my brain told my mouth.
My mouth didn’t listen. “Why are you talking about Logan?” I realized after the words were out of my mouth that my question was incredibly insensitive. Not to mention stupid. He could just be feeling nostalgic for his brother on a night that was usually reserved for family—at least when you were little. The Hulk costume could have truly reminded him of his childhood.
Or he could be throwing veiled accusations at me and hoping I bit on one.
Levi shrugged, and it felt intentionally casual, forced even. “It’s fun watching Max embrace his inner superhero. He looks awesome. Did you paint his face?”
Not ready to accept his compliment, I grumbled, “Some of it rubbed off during dinner.”
“Are you going back for apple cider?”
“How did you—”
“Rosie,” he confessed. “When I realized you were avoiding me, I had to do some recon.”
Rosie. Of course. The helpless romantic.
I knew the real word washopeless. But Rosie honestly couldn’t help it.
