I write down:7
Brody’s already done, his handwriting neat and slanted. Confident.
“Reveal!” Maya shouts.
We turn our boards.
Mine: 7
His: 7
The crowd cheers, hungry for something a little more challenging.
“Next question!” Maya’s grinning. “Gentlemen, what is your girlfriend’s comfort food?”
I hesitate.
Did we talk about this? I’m searching my memory—we’ve talked about food a lot, actually. Over tapas, coffee, dinner…
It doesn’t matter. I have to write something down.
I scribble on my board.
Brody’s done before me. Again. Not even hesitating.
“Reveal!”
Mine: Carbs.
His: Bread. Cookies. Carbs.
The room erupts, cheering.
And I’m just staring at his board. That is almost exactly what I said. I remember now, Monday night. What do you do when you’re stressed? That had been the question.
He remembered.
I spare a glance at Lauren and Brad. She’s looking at his haphazard scribble of “salad” with a look of absolute disgust. I don’t blame her. Nobody’s comfort food issalad.Come on, Brad.
“Ooooh.” Maya winces, her nose scrunching in that perfectly modelesque way I’ve always been a little jealous of. “You’ll get the next one, guys. Ladies, what’s your boyfriend’s guilty pleasure TV show?”
I smile. This one I definitely know.
Saturday morning at the coffee shop. He admitted it almost sheepishly, like it was this secret he didn’t usually share. I almost feel bad letting the secret out, but…
“Reveal!”
Mine: Cooking competitions
His: Cooking competitions
Again, the crowd goes wild. Lauren looks like she’s about to walk out of here because she wroteK-dramas(which feels likewishful thinking on her part), and all he wrote wascheese,all of which the crowd finds very amusing.
But I can’t laugh.
Because Brody’s looking at me with this expression I can’t read. And Derek’s watching us both. Really watching. Like he’s cataloging every microexpression.
“Seriously, Candy? Cooking shows?” Tyler shouts from the audience.
