“Like, the hunchback in the bell tower?”
Unable to hold it in any longer, I let out a laugh, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.“It’s my sourdough starter,” I explain.
“The hunchback made you want to get into sourdough?”
“No.”My shoulders shake even harder with amusement.“My sourdough starter is named Quasimodough.As in bread dough.”
“You named your sourdough starter?”
“Everyone names their sourdough starters,” I argue.“And honestly, even if it wasn’t a trend, I would still have named my sourdough starter.”
His nod is slow as he chews his bite, studying me.Either he’s genuinely intrigued, or he’s really trying hard not to make fun of me, but I can’t decide which.
Swallowing, he prods, “Why?”
“Why would I have still named my sourdough starter even if it wasn’t a trend?”I ask.
He nods.
“Because it’s important to name the things you love.And Quasimodough is like a child to me.”
“A child, huh?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I like the name.”
“Thanks.I came up with it all by myself.”
Amusement toys at the edge of his lips."You're a clever little thing.”
“Hardly little,” I quip.I don’t know why I say it.I shouldn’t.No one wants to discuss a fat girl’s weight, even if the girl in question is pretty freaking comfortable in her own skin.The truth is, it just slipped out of me, and now?Now, I’d give anything to take it back.
He leans back in his seat, studying me with the same intensity as before.“Guess it’s subjective.”
“What is?”I ask.
“The definition of little.”He shifts forward and takes another bite of his sandwich, brushing the crumbs from his fingertips.“As long as he can toss you around in the bedroom, then I think the description fits.”He hesitates.“Just so we’re clear, and yes, I know I’m about to make you uncomfortable, but I’m not one for tiptoeing around sensitive topics, and I think this is something you need to hear, so here it goes.A lot of men prefer something to hold on to when they’re fucking a person.”He smirks.“Now, I’ve never made sourdough.Actually don’t cook much in general,” he adds.“Only a few things I keep in my back pocket in case a pretty girl stops by, but I’m glad you approve of the sandwich.”
There it is again.The innocent flirting I’m used to being exposed to anytime we’re in the same room.It’s harmless.And disingenuous, if I’m being honest.My lips turn down, and he cocks his head, catching the minor shift in my demeanor.
“What’d I say this time?”he asks.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”He finishes the last bite of his sandwich.“Something wrong with calling it as I see it?Or are you and Bryan more serious than you let on?”He gasps.“Does my June Bug have a boyfriend?”His whistle cuts through the silence.“Damn, June.I mean, I get it.I felt like I was interrupting at the coffee shop, but letting yourself be tied down already?Without even…playing the field?”He shakes his head.“Breaking my heart over here.”
I snort.“Whatever, Jeep.”
He gasps.“Not you, too.”
“I mean, it’s kind of fitting,” I argue.“You love a good bumpy ride?—”
“Hell yeah, I do.”
“You’re also fun for a quick spin with the top down,” I continue.“But are you economical or, you know, a solid long-term type of car?”I give him a pointed look.“Nah.People buy Jeeps for the experience.For the adventure.Then, they settle down with something reliable.Something…dependable.”
“Like a Camry or a Civic?”he offers.
