“Do you think we would have met if Vetticus hadn’t taken us?” Atlas asked.
I shrugged and leaned back against him. “We lived on opposite sides of the country. Hell, you were married.”
“I’d like to think it would have happened regardless of him,” Atlas insisted.
“A grocery store meet cute?” I teased. “Or maybe your dog got out and I was magically there to save the day?”
Atlas chuckled. “We didn’t have a dog.”
“Cat?”
“Nope—maybe we’d have run into each other on an airplane?”
“Yeah, you had the misfortune of booking the middle seat—”
“I would never! Aisle all the way.”
“Well I’m a window seat guy—”
Atlas huffed in exasperation. “Fine—for the sake of this story, the only seat left was a middle seat and I had to be on that flight.”
“And you fell asleep on my shoulder—”
“I have one of those pillow things—”
“That you left at home. Luckily I find your snoring adorable—”
I could practically feel Atlas rolling his eyes at me. “Then I wake up—” He prompted.
“You wake up but you missed the beverage service. That’s okay though because I hook you up with a mini alcohol bottle I brought along and some pretzels—” I smirked and saw him openhis mouth to reply. “Except you decline the snack because like the psycho you are, you don’t like pretzels. We get into a lively debate about that.”
“About pretzels?” He asked in amusement.
“Yeah, you were very adamant about how terrible they are.”
“Well, they are,” he insisted.
“Not the ones they give you on the plane,” I insisted.
“Okay, so what happens then?”
“We have to decide what to watch—your vote is an action movie—I want Food Network.”
“I’d be down for Food Network though.”
“Good because that’s what we went with.”
“Oh yeah?” Atlas’ laugh was a warm breath against my neck.
“Yup—we watch that for a bit and then you ask if I can cook—to which I say yes and you don’t believe me.”
“Why not?”
“No one ever believes I’m good in the kitchen,” I said flatly.
“This is true—I probably would have been skeptical. So when do you ask for my number?”
I grinned. “I don’t.”
