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“I always notice.” She smiles, and I kiss her fingers again before holding her hand in my lap. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving. I forgot to eat today.”

My brow quirks when I take a peek at her. “What do you mean you forgot?”

“I got distracted. Camila called first thing this morning and she told me her husband surprised her by flying her home to Miami for the weekend,” she says. “And they ran into this girl we went to high school with and she was like ‘Okay wait, do you remember Kendra Khol’? Obviously, I didn’t because unless I see you every day, I will absolutely forget that you exist. The object permanence is strong with me,” she flexes her bicep and I ignore the bricks that start taking shape in my stomach at that statement. “Anyway, I guess a year after we graduated she ended up marrying our high-school gym teacher, Mr. Baby.”

“You had a teacher named Mr. Baby?” I interrupt her.

“You know what, now that I think about it, it seems kind of made up. But he was young for a teacher, like twenty-five maybe? And he was one of those teachers that would try to be your friend.” She says those last three words with air quotes. “Like he would talk to all the boys about their girlfriends, and try to give them advice—yes it’s absolutely as creepy as it sounds.” She holds up a hand to me when my lips pull down. “Anyway one time he was like, ‘You don’t need to call me Mr. just call me baby.’” Her cheeks puff up and she makes a deep gagging sound.

“Okay—” I hesitate wondering how we got so far off-topic here but also not about to stop her.

“Right, so get this, he just recently got caught hooking up with the current events teacher!” She’s smiling but her eyes are as wide as saucers. “And I guess Kendra has been posting all these cryptic quotes and song lyrics lately, and today, or Iguess yesterday, one of the neighbors saw Mr. Baby come home for the first time in like three days.”

“So he’s back home with his child bride?”

“No! That’s the best part, she changed the locks and left a suitcase on the front porch and I guess he was standing out there yelling for like twenty minutes. She gave him the old hippity-hoppity, get off my property.” Taylor laughs, flicking her wrist in front of her. She’s so animated in the way she tells a story, I was immediately taken on this ride with her but now I’m wondering what this has to do with her not eating today.

“And did this story ruin your appetite?”

“What?” She looks at me confused and I quirk a brow. “Oh! No, sorry, that was a long story, not a short way of saying I talked to Camila, I spent a while convincing myself to get up and shower, and then when I got downstairs, I saw your cat.”

“Not my cat,” I mutter under my breath.

“Yet.” She gives me a pointed look. “Anyway, while I was petting your cat,

Liv was on her way out to grab a dress for a bachelorette party she was going to this weekend—it’s Sophie’s, by the way, so I was a little confused since she already got married, but apparently, her sister was sick the night they were supposed to go out so she just postponed it, which I originally thought was kind of silly but now I’m, like, fully onboard. I think everyone should have faux bachelorette parties and often.” I almost miss the turn into the parking lot completely as all my attention is spent trying to follow her story.

“You never got to the part where you forgot to eat.”

Her fingers wrap around my bicep. “I’m so annoying. Basically, while we were shopping I was going to run across the street and grab a snack, but then I ran into Sophie, and betweenher and Liv, I got ganged up on and harassed, and without all the unnecessary detail, I’m now going out with them for her faux bachelorette party on Saturday. Yada, yada, yada, by the time I got back, I remembered I hadn’t eaten yet, but by then it was too late because I only had a few minutes to get ready for our date.”

I still don’t fully understand the ride I was just taken on, but when I put my truck in park and look over to find Taylor’s eyes glued to her hands where she’s picking at her nails, I know I don’t need to understand, I just need to show her I’m here.

“First of all, you're not annoying.” I cover her hands with mine. “I like the way you tell stories and more than that, I like that you're comfortable doing so.” I tuck the hair she's attempting to hide behind over her shoulder. “Second, let’s get you some food.”

Her cheeks lift with a smile, and I kiss them once before we go inside.

The restaurant is dimly lit,with wood panels and live plants lining all the walls. Taylor’s eyes actually sparkle as she looks around, her hand casually resting in mine.

“Italian?” she asks, grinning ear to ear.

“It’s the only one in the area.”

“It’s my favorite.” She leans into me as the hostess takes us to our table.

We order one of almost everything on the menu, and Taylor fills the time we spend waiting by creating stories about the people around us. Ian and Kate, the young couple in the corner, were here on their honeymoon, she had said. It was their first night in town and they were both so hungry and tired from their long day of travel so rather than argueabout finding the best authentic Irish pub, they walked across the street to the Italian restaurant instead.

“See those two?” she asks as a middle-aged couple smiles at us and walks out. “That’s Dom and Mia, and they just left to go have feral sex.”

“Mmm, I might disagree with you on that one. He was wearing socks with sandals. You really think he’s bringing the heat in the bedroom?”

“Look at that wad of cash he threw down as a tip,” she says, lifting her chin in the direction of their table. “A generous tipper is a generous lover.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes. Do you think someone who gips on a tip is going to go the extra mile in bed? No way.” She takes a sip of her wine, and we both laugh.