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I thought about asking further questions, but did I really want to know? Not really.

“Are you a football fan?” she asked me after a tense silence.

“I watch with Mom, but it’s not my sport,” I said.

“What is your sport?”

I shrugged. “Anything where women are being really hot I’m a fan of.”

That made her laugh. “I like the way you think.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you started the book club book yet?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t. You?”

I shook my head and pushed the last of the beer cheese bowl toward her.

Ryan looked thoughtful for a moment and then got up. She came back a little bit later with the book in her hands.

“Want to read it together?” she asked. I scraped the rest of the hummus out of the bowl and set it down.

“That sounds like a very relaxing thing to do. You’re really getting the hang of this,” I said.

Ryan smiled easily and my heart did a little fluttering thing that was extremely distracting. Why was she so damn attractive? It was hard to take.

“I’m not a professional voice actor or anything, so don’t judge me too harshly,” she said before opening the cover and turning to the first page of the book. Ryan started to read in a smooth voice, and I lay back on the couch to watch her as she spoke.

Not a bad way to relax at all.

Ryan paused a while later and coughed. “I’m not used to reading aloud this much.”

“I’ll get you some water,” I said, standing up and touching her shoulder.

“Oh, thanks,” she said.

I brought back ice water for both of us and Ryan nearly drained the whole glass before starting again. She was right, she didn’t do funny voices or a dramatic reading, but her reading was soothing and straightforward and I liked it. I really liked it.

The story was soft and sweet and precious and totally lived up to the hype so far.

Eventually her voice got tired and she put the bookmark the bookstore had given her between the pages and set it on the coffee table.

“I can’t remember the last time someone read to me. I mean, other than an audiobook,” I said.

“Did your parents read to you?” she asked.

“Every night for years,” I said.

“That’s nice,” she said. There was no point in asking if her parents had read to her.

“Did you have a nanny growing up?” I asked.

“Several,” she said.

“Hold on, several nannies?” I asked. “Why would you need several nannies?”

She gave me a smile which was just her lips pressed together. “Ask my parents.”