“Nothing like yours though,” I said, seriously.
She dropped the fry and arched an eyebrow at me.
“What? What’s that look for?” I asked, laughing.
“You’re flirting again.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Stop,” she laughed.
“I like flirting with you. Will you giggle and laugh and flip your hair too?”
“I’m not one of those girls, Ryan,” she said, swallowing hard, eyes focused back down on her food.
“Maybe that’s why you seem to be my favorite person to flirt with.”
She snapped her head up and blinked at me, her cheeks taking on another pink glow, and I could have sworn she was fighting a smile. My chest swelled with heat, one of those intense feelings I haven’t had since I was a kid.
“So…honestly…” I shrugged. “What’s with the flowers and the tears?”
She let out a slow breath, and twisted her fingers together, fidgeting. “My ex. It’s really not worth talking about. We were falling in love one minute, and the next…” she slowed down her words and looked away as if thinking of how to continue. “He morphed into a completely different person. I didn’t even see it coming.”
Her voice was low as she spoke, her fingers continually twisting at the sleeve of her shirt. “You look scared to talk about him.”
She made a slight grimace and narrowed her eyes at me. Her lips moved to deny what I said, but I wouldn’t let her. “You remember, I am a detective, right Brooke? I do this shit for a living. I read people. You’re scared.”
“It’s not like that, Ryan. I was just surprised that I didn’t realize he wasn’t right for me, that’s all.” She sipped at her shake and shivered. “I’m not scared. I’m just tired of only meeting the absolute worst men. What about you?”
“I usually skip the men and just deal with the ladies. Men seem too hairy to me,” I teased, trying to pull out a smile from her. “And they’re kind of gross and watch too much sports, and hunt and stuff.”
“You’re an ass,” she laughed, popping another bite of her burger into her mouth. “So what’s going on with you? You look drained. Late night?”
“Yes. Definitely,” I said, nodding my head and rubbing a hand through my hair. I was starting to really feel it now, the exhaustion, settling into my bones, pulling me toward the ground.
“So… Who keptyouup all night?” she smiled, her face flushed. You could learn a lot about Brooke just by watching the various shades of pink that brightened her cheeks.
“His name is Cameron,” I said, smiling. “He’s my sixteen-year-old autistic brother, who is staying with me for the next four weeks while my mother and step-father go on a much-needed vacation in Italy.”
“And so last night?” she prompted, waving her hand for me to continue.
“Was the first time Cameron ever stayed over anyone’s house overnight. So he basically just had a complete meltdown the entire time.”
“That’s rough, Cage. What did you do?” she asked, sipping at her straw.
“I pretty much had an identical meltdown right beside him.”
“Was it being in a new place? Or just being away from your parents that set him off?” she asked, twirling the straw in the glass.
“I’m not sure. He’s not very verbal. He repeats everything like a parrot, but he has trouble letting people know what he needs or wants.”
“Does he have one of thosespeakapps for an iPad?” she asked.
“I don’t know. What is that?”What the hell kind of magic is she speaking of?
“It’s an app that helps non-verbal individuals to communicate,” she said with a beautiful smile.
“How do you know about that?” I asked, dropping my burger back into my plate, stunned.
