Page 26 of The Taste of Deceit

“The boys at my school are idiots.”

“Right.”

“Half of them think cow tipping is a personality trait.”

That earns another laugh.

“So college boys are different?”

“Hopefully.”

The smile stays on his face, but something about the way he’s looking at me changes. It’s small. Small enough that I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“How old are college boys?”

I shrug.

“Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one.”

His gaze lingers for a second too long.

“That so?”

“Yep.”

The smile on his face doesn’t change. For some reason, the knot in my stomach appears for the first time all night.

“What?” I ask.

Randy flicks ash into the dirt and looks back out across the pasture. “Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing.”

A laugh slips out of him. “You’ve got your whole life planned out, don’t you?”

I roll my eyes. “No, I don’t.”

“You kind of do.” He gestures vaguely with the cigarette. “College. Degree. Future husband. White picket fence.”

I snort.

“First of all, I never said white picket fence. Second of all, I don’t have my whole life planned out.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

The amusement in his voice is annoying enough that I have to fight the urge to kick his boot.

For a minute, neither of us says anything. The night settles around us again. Somewhere off in the distance, a horse nickers. The cigarette glows between Randy’s fingers before fading back into the darkness.

“What happens if somebody doesn’t want to wait until college?” he asks.

I frown.

“What?”