That only makes it worse. I laugh so hard, Fiona leaps from my lap and glares at me.
“So mature,” he drawls, but he’s smiling at me.
“I’m not really that into balls either,” I deadpan.
He chuckles, and I get that fizz of warmth in my chest when I make someone laugh.
“What else?” I ask.
“He loved going four-wheeling in the desert. He let me drive for the first time when I was eight, and I put it on its side in less than five minutes. I thought my mom was gonna kill him,” he says with a grin. “Oh, and he could absolutely shred on the guitar.”
“Electric?”
“Any of them.”
“Wow. Is he the reason you love music so much?”
“Probably. Are your parents big music people too?”
“They can’t play anything like your dad could, but they’re always listening to something. I think it rubbed off on me.”
“What does your mom do?” Gregory asks.
“During the summer she works at the Avondale Gallery downtown. She has a real eye for art.”
“Wow, the grocery store and art gallery? Your family’s a pretty big deal in town, then, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would. Your dad feeds our bellies, and your mom feeds our souls.”
I blink at him. “Okay, I actually love that. Though, I’m not sure what my contribution is.”
“You rescue the cats, of course.”
I think about Margarine and decide I’m fine with being the resident animal rescuer.
My phone chimes from the small purse I left on the picnic table. Fiona ditched me to cuddle up with Waffles inside the box, so I get up to check it.
Myles: hey
Myles: what’s up
A huge smile spreads across my face.
Myles texted me again.
Me, as in Amelia. Not Kat.
“Is it your friend Kat?” Gregory guesses.
The feeling that washes over me is like jumping off the pier in the middle of December.No, it’s not Kat. It’s that guy Myles you asked about last night, who I really shouldn’t be texting because I promised my best friend of all time I’d never go for him.
“Oh. Um, no. It’s…” I start, then pause.
“Ah. That Myles guy, right?” Gregory says, then holds up a hand. “Sorry, never mind. Not my business.” He pushes to his feet. “I’d better get back to work anyway. See you around.”
I watch him walk to the door, the phone with Myles’s messages in my hand.
