“Favorite food.” I jerk my chin at him, tightening my arms around me just a fraction.
“Avocado.”
Another swing and a miss. What kind of person prefers avocados out of all the other foods in the entire universe? Hasn’t the man ever had perfectly crisp French fries? Or still-warm bread with salty Irish butter? I’d even accept a perfectly made chicken Caesar salad—juicy chicken, crispy bacon, crunchy croutons, fresh lettuce and a dressing that strikes the right balance of tart and creamy.
But avocado? What the actual fuck?
He points at my face. “I can see you agree with me.”
Still rooted to the arm of the couch, I can’t seem to let the flaws drive me away. In fact, I only want to know more.
“What are you studying?”
“Math.”
“Ew.” I definitely can’t stop my face from recoiling in horror atthatparticular proclamation.
He chuckles, and I have to admit, it’s a sound I wouldn’t mind hearing more of. It’s warm, the timbre low and rumbly in his chest. “I’m not studying math, but I wanted to see your face when I said it.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“Computer science.” His fingers move on the strings.
A STEM degree? Curious. This guy has jock shoulders, and a jock neck, but a nerd brain. And he’s about to start playing a guitar.
E
A
D
G
B
E
It’s an iconic opening sequence of chords, and part of me wants him to burst into singing The House of the Rising Sun by The Animals, but it might also make me cry. It’s one of Dad’s favorites, a song I heard frequently as a kid. I haven’t been able to listen to it since the divorce.
“And what do you plan to do with your life if you grow up...?” I leave my question hanging, not knowing his name and wanting him to fill in the gap.
He flashes a panty-melting grin that may have actually melted my panties. Fuck. He’s stunning. The sharpness of his cheekbones, nose, and jaw is softened by the warmth in his eyes and the slight wave of his hair.
“Why would I ever want to do that?” He tips his head like he’s contemplating a legit answer. “Tate. And I want to be a spy.”
“Like James Bond?”
He snickers. “Right. That dude wishes he was me.”
“Why the spy route?”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
I sit in silence, watching his fingers pluck at the strings, waiting for the real answer.
“My favorite Aunt, Susan—on my mom’s side—worked for a company that was brought to its knees by a cyber threat. The world is getting scarier by the day. Technology developments, AI, and more prevalent and dangerous cyber threats than we’ve ever faced before. Computer scientists are in high demand.” He shrugs again like I probably should have figured it out by myself.
“What about you?”
