“I didn’t either,” she admits with a soft sigh. “I didn’t want to go alone, and I didn’t have many friends, so I stayed home with my dad and watched the Bears game.” She shrugs like it’s nothing.
It’s not nothing.
“Cheers to surviving high school,” I say, lifting my glass.
Gwen laughs and clinks hers against mine before taking a sip.
“Besides making the best baked goods in the world,” I add, “what do you like to do for fun?”
It’s a cliché question, but I don’t care. I want to know everything about her. I just don’t know where to start.
“I think the girly magazines would label me an introvert,” she says. “I like staying in and reading. I read a lot, actually. It’s probably my biggest hobby.”
Her eyes light up as she talks about it.
“What kind of books?”
“All kinds. Depends on my mood. Right now, I’m reading this book about a mafia boss who’s dying and trying to choose an heir. He has sons, but none of them are fit for it. His son-in-law would be.”
She pauses, as though she’s still turning the story over in her mind.
“But wouldn’t that be… frowned upon?” I ask. “Choosing someone outside the bloodline?”
“Exactly!” she says, lighting up. “That’s the whole conflict. He doesn’t know what to do.”
“Let me know what he decides,” I say, and she smiles.
“So who’s your all-time favorite author?”
“Definitely Rina Kent,” she says without hesitation. “She writes darker romance, and I get completely obsessed with her characters.”
“A darker type of romance,” I repeat with a small laugh. “That sounds intense.”
“It is,” she grins.
Then she tilts her head. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not out there saving women from face-planting on the ice?”
I huff a laugh. “I like being home too. I’m a big movie guy. That’s usually my night sweatpants, couch, and something playing in the background.”
She seems to relax at that.
“What’s your favorite movie?” she asks, leaning forward slightly, taking another sip of her beer.
There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, and I catch myself staring a second too long.
“Like you with books, I go through phases,” I say. “Right now? American Psycho.”
“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it,” she admits.
“You should. It’s… a lot,” I say. Then, before I can stop myself, “You could come over sometime. We could watch it together.”
The words are out before I can think them through.
Her cheeks deepen into a warmer shade of pink.
“That sounds fun,” she says. “Do you live close to the… ice skating place?”
“The rink?” I laugh. She nods, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, about fifteen minutes away. I’ve got a place on the edge of the city.” I pause. “I’ll actually have a roommate again starting tomorrow.”
