Chapter 18
“I’ll probably like it all. Do you want me to meet you here? Or there? Or…whatever’s easiest for you?” For someone who’d once intimidated Don’s filing system into submission, Raine seemed surprisingly uncertain, asking.
“Meet me here,” Don offered. Uncommon Grounds might have the comfort of familiarity. No pressure. Easy. “Hey, want to give me your phone number? Or I can give you mine? In case you’re running late or something?”
Raine took out his phone and regarded the screen as if never having seen it before. “…yes? I don’t plan to be late. I’m insulted that you’ve suggested it.”
“No you’re not,” Don said. “You just want to be. Prickly. Cactus.”
“And you’re a sunflower,” Raine said, handing over his phone. “Give me your number.”
Don did. A second later a tiny emoji cactus popped up on his own phone: Raine had sent it.
“I like it,” Don said.
“You would.”
“Yeah,” Don said. “I would.”
The pause extended, pink-hued and honest.