I shrug. “It makes no difference to me if you believe me or not.”
After a pause, she says, “What are you going to say when we break up?”
That’s not a question I’m willing to answer because I don’t think it’s the right question. I answer her by reaching out to push a loose wave of hair behind her ear and then dragging myfingertips down the side of her neck. “Are you still hungry? You didn’t eat much at the restaurant.”
She looks at me like I just asked her if she’s crazy. I’m quite sure I didn’t. “Answer my question.”
“How about I answer it after you’ve eaten? You’ve always been exceedingly short tempered when you’re hungry.”
“I’m not short tempered!” she snaps.
I smile. “My mistake.” And there’s that scowl that I’m so fond of.
Olivia laughs and punches my arm. “I am hungry. Damn you.”
“You should be able to find something at the house. I gave Gracia a list of your favorite breakfast and snack-food items.”
She cocks her head to one side. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“All of your smoothie ingredients. For protein powder–based smoothies and fresh green smoothies. Also, brown organic free-run eggs, organic turkey bacon, high-protein waffles, high-protein instant oatmeal, organic rolled oats, organic apples and bananas and walnuts, organic full-fat Greek yogurt, gluten-free high-fiber muffins, organic dark maple syrup, organic almonds, organic almond milk, English Breakfast tea, Irish butter, sprouted organic-grain bread, conventional avocado, Red Vines, Green & Black’s milk chocolate with almonds and white chocolate, organic powdered cacao, turmeric powder, cinnamon and raw honey for your weird yellow warm nut-milk drink…high-protein mint-chocolate-chip ice cream, organic plain kettle chips… Did I forget anything?” When I look over at her, she appears to be dumbfounded. It’s very satisfying. “We have Ritual coffee now too.”
She clears her throat. “What kind of cinnamon?”
“Ceylon. Both powder and stick form.”
She blinks once and then looks down at her hands.
I feel my phone vibrate, but I ignore it. Olivia has my full attention.
“I can’t believe you remember all that,” she says softly.
“It’s just a shopping list.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait. Did you watch my ‘What I Eat in a Day’ videos after I made them public?”
Busted. “I may have watched several of them before they were made private. Yes. I learned a lot from them.”
“Oh, did you now?” She has softened. I like it when she’s fiery, but I like this side of her too. It’s rare for me to see it. “I remember you like my mom’s zucchini-banana bread. Or at least you said you did.”
That makes me smile. It’s not a list, but it’s enough.
Olivia reaches for my arm and brings my hand to her lap, holding it tentatively between her hands, like my hand is a small domesticated animal that might suddenly bite her. “Do you remember the time I sprinkled cayenne pepper on your Red Vines?”
“I remember everything you’ve ever said and done around me, Olivia. Even when it seemed like I wasn’t paying attention.”
She looks up at me. “You mean you remember everythingeveryoneever says and does?”
“No. I have a selective memory. I try not to retain any information I don’t need.”
Her eyelashes flutter. Her hands close in on mine a little tighter. She is flattered by this statement, but I can see that she is about to challenge me anyway. And that is why I like her. She’s the ballerina, but she keepsmeon my toes. “Aren’t you worried you aren’t creating as many new neural pathways as you could if you don’t try to learn and remember new things?”
I drag my free index finger from the V that forms between her own thumb and index finger all the way up her arm toher shoulder, across her collarbone. “I’d rather form neural pathways learning new things aboutyou.”
She shivers and catches her breath. I’ve said the right thing. The thing she didn’t expect. I am so nailing Step Three.
Olivia grabs the hand that’s hovering over her collarbone with both of hers and draws it down, over her heart. I can feel her heart beating. I can see her nipples forming hard buds beneath two layers of fabric. She’s staring at me, eyes wide, lips parted. And I watch as that expression of mild astonishment turns to one of seduction. Her eyelids are heavy now. She bites her lower lip as she stares at my mouth. She pushes my hand, slowly, under the deep V neckline of her emerald-green dress. Just an inch or two.
It’s more than an invitation.
