Page 80 of UNAwere

‘Because it’s away from people?’

‘Exactly.’

I grin. ‘Ooookay. Well, would I have to say sorry if I invited the entire population of Primrose into your room?’

He huffs out a laugh, the sides of his eyes creasing. ‘You think it’s possible everyone will fit?’

‘Hm, well, I don’t know. I haven’t been in your room. You tell me.’

His eyes soften to gold as they watch me. There’s a window beside us, facing out to a darkened lot behind the service station, and I can see our reflections gazing at one another in my peripherals. We look like a painting my dad used to own, of Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, Humphrey Bogart, and James Dean sitting at a bar together, the lighting moody.

Jude’s lips twitch when I ask him if he knows the painting. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Hm.’ I search for it on my phone. ‘Here! It’s called Boulevard of Broken Dreams. It was painted in 1984. Surely someone as ancient as you would know it.’

‘I know Nighthawks,’ he says. ‘The painting that your painting is a parody of.’

‘What?!’ I look up Nighthawks. 1942, Edward Hopper. ‘Huh… you don’t say.’

‘And I’m not ancient. I was born in ’89.’

I raise my brows. ‘You say that, yet you knew the painting from 1942 better.’

‘That’s because I’m cultured.’

I laugh, loudly. The sound comes out so abruptly, I clamp a hand over my mouth.

Jude’s lips spread, and he shakes his head, dropping his gaze from me.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I just… didn’t see you as the type to enjoy the arts.’

‘I think art needs to be appreciated.’

I stare at him, surprised to be finding a new side of him I haven’t discovered yet.

‘So… are you well-read?’

He shrugs. ‘I read. But I wouldn’t say well-read.’

‘What kind of books do you read?’

‘Whatever takes my fancy.’

‘Monster smut?’ I grin.

His brow raises. ‘Do I even want to know what that is?’

‘Depends on whether you want to find out what books have tentacle monsters ravishing busty wom—’

‘Here you go!’ The waitress is back and hands us our drinks. ‘I’ll just go get your meals.’

Jude and I sit in silence as she goes to the counter to get our plates and comes back.

‘Thanks,’ Jude murmurs.

‘Let me know if you need anything else.’ She grins at him again, and I cock my head to the side.

‘Hey, I think she might like you,’ I murmur when she’s gone.