Not crying. Just... full. “It’s perfect.”
I shrugged. “Of course it is.”
She laughed. “There he is.”
“The ego?”
“The confidence,”
I smirked.
Josie slid off the chair. Only she was closer than before. Much closer.
I stood automatically, and suddenly there wasn’t much space between us.
I could smell vanilla and see the freckles across her nose. The tiny crease between her eyebrows that showed up when she was thinking too hard.
Neither of us moved.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you’re not what I expected.”
“What’d you expect?”
She smiled. “Honestly?”
“A jerk covered in tattoos?”
“No, though you are covered in tattoos.”
“Fair.”
Her smile softened. “But you’re nice.”
I groaned. “Don’t spread that around.”
She laughed. “I’m serious.”
I looked away toward the front windows. Anywhere but her. “I just brought you burgers.”
“You remembered I skipped lunch.”
I shrugged. “You were hungry.”
“You keep doing that.”
“What?”
“Making things seem smaller than they are.”
I looked back at her. Her expression was open. Honest.
No games.
No expectations.
Just Josie.
Standing close enough that if I leaned forward... I stopped the thought.
