Page 11 of Made for Mayhem

“Still full of regrets?”

“I believe it was my turn to ask a question.”

Our hands brushed as we both reached for a fry, that same spark zipping between us.

“Hit me.”

“This one’s kind of a first date question, but how would your best friend describe you?”

“That’s deeper than I expected.” He adjusted his hat, fingers dragging through his hair as his gaze slid to the window. I’d call this one Avoidance.

“I feel like I just gave you a freebie.” I tossed a fry at him, bouncing it off his thick beard. “So let’s hear it. Aside from tall, dark, and handsome.”

A grin tugged at his mouth when his eyes finally came back to mine. “I doubt Beckett would call me tall, dark, and handsome, but maybe I’m wrong. It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

“Okay, so Beckett.” I stole another fry, lifting it to throw again if he avoided the question. “How would he describe you?”

He stared out the window again, jaw working. “He’d probably say I’m reliable.”

“That’s it? Just reliable?”

He shrugged. “I show up. When people need something, I’m your guy.”

A slight frown crossed his face that didn’t track with what most people would say was a compliment, so I waited for him to continue.

“I guess he’d say I don’t ask for much. Don’t complain. Don’t make things harder than they need to be.” A pause. “And that I’m a grumpy motherfucker.”

I laughed. “I think you just look grumpy. Hidden beneath all that facial hair.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I’m plenty grumpy.”

“Sure.”

That earned me a real smile—slow and a little crooked.

“What about you?” His gaze held mine. “How would your best friend describe you?”

“Oh, easy. Impulsive. Optimistic to a fault. A little reckless. Classic avoidance patterns when life gets hard.”

“That tracks.”

I kicked his boot under the table, grinning. “Hey.”

“Reckless can be good.”

I paused, fry halfway to my mouth. “I did move across the country to live with a roommate I found on Craigslist and asked a stranger to spend the night with me.”

“Okay. Not all good.”

“Thank you. Credit where credit is due.”

He shook his head, eyes alight with amusement, and I was giddy with delight over making this self-proclaimed grumpy motherfucker smile. “So Beckett relies on you.”

Huddy let out a shallow breath, then gave me a quick nod. “People usually do.”

The way he said it—like a fact, not a boast—settled deep in my chest.

“Well.” I broke the moment with a smile. “That explains why you’re so good at not letting strangers get run over by cars.”