I let out a giggle because I know Sandy has to be doing the same.
Sandy: That’s a technicality, baby bangs.
“I take it you’re not texting your brother.”
I look up to find Case standing next to me, his gaze pinned to the screen of my phone.
I set it back on the table. “Why would you say that?”
He settles back into his chair. “You were having a good time.”
I laugh that off. “I have a good time when I text Drake.”
“You’ve been pissed with him,” he accuses with a smile. “He ran off to get married without saying a word to you.”
That stings because it’s grounded in truth. I skip around the subject of my brother because I don’t want Case repeating anything to Drake that I say in spite. “I was texting a friend back home. She reminded me of the nickname she used to call me that I hated.”
“Let me guess what that was.”
My eyebrows dart up. How does he think he can guess something that personal? We barely know each other. “Guess.”
“Freckles.”
That lures my hand to my nose. I thought I put on enough foundation to cover my freckles. My mom may see them as adorable, but I’m not a toddler anymore. They were cute at one time. Now, they’re a reminder of the bunch of bullies I went to middle school with.
Girls can be cruel to other girls. It’s one of the reasons I became a teacher.
“No,” I say quietly. “Not Freckles.”
“You try to hide your freckles, but I like them.”
I lock eyes with him. “You do?”
He studies me, tilting his head up slightly. “They’re a unique part of you.”
Running a finger over the bridge of my nose, I bite back a smile. “I guess they are.”
“Was your nickname small fry or maybe shorty?”
Shaking my head, I finally grin. “I’m five foot two. That’s not short.”
His eyes widen. “Tell me the nickname, Emma.”
I have no idea why this is important to him, but I oblige. “Baby bangs.”
“I don’t see it.”
I laugh. “Thankfully.”
We settle into a quiet moment with both of us sipping our wine. It’s interrupted by the buzz of Case’s phone.
His gaze drops to it momentarily. “It’s your brother. He’s wondering how you’re doing, Freckles.”
I cover my mouth with my hand but smile. “You didn’t just call me that.”
“Oh, I did.” He punctuates his words with a swift nod. “And you liked it.”
I ignore that because he’s right. “Have you ever had a nickname?”
