“Are you kidding me?” she laughed.
He sat back down, took a sip of his coffee, and smiled. “What’s with all of these questions, friend?”
“I’ll say it again like I did at your house,” she replied as she settled back into her seat. “You’re truly a wiseass.”
“Certified,” he laughed. “So how’ve you been?”
“I’ve been better, and I’ve been worse.”
“Okay, so that’s not necessarily a bad thing then.”
“That you’re correct about.”
“Very good.” He smiled. “So tell me something about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
Anything. Everything. Why’d you take him back? He thought to himself. Sliding his hand through his hair, he shrugged. “What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”
“Vanilla. And yours?”
“I dig vanilla, too, but I’m really a chocolate type of guy,” he answered, watching the way she nervously shifted in her seat.
As a long silence descended across the table—during which Gavin gave her another one of those intensely searching looks—Emily noticed the way he pressed his lips together as though to stop himself from asking her something that he truly wanted to know.
“So what’s your favorite color?” he finally asked.
“Gavin, can I ask you a question?”
“Anything you want.”
“What are we doing?”
“We’re playing fifty questions,” he laughed.
“No, we’re not. What do you really want to ask me?”
Drawing up a brow, he leaned back and propped his hands behind his neck. “Mmm, you’re good at reading me.” He watched her for a few more seconds, studying every beautiful curve of her face. “I’ve been told I’m hard to figure out, and this, of course, comes from people who have known me far longer than you have.”
“I find you pretty easy to read.” And she did. Although he kept certain aspects of his life guarded, he was an open book in her eyes. She took a sip of her coffee. “So shoot—what is it that you really want to know?”
He contemplated her for a moment. “Are you happy with Dillon, Emily?”
She bit her lip nervously. “Why do you want to know this?”
“We’re friends, and friends ask questions. And, besides, you’re the one who asked, don’t forget.”
“Right, I did.” She looked down to her hands and then back to Gavin. “Yes, I’m happy with him.”
Placing his elbow on the table, he pressed his chin against the palm of his hand. “Why?”
Her brows knitted together. “What do you mean why?”
“Give me the specifics.” He shrugged. “Why does he make you happy?”
She stared at him, her eyes intense, but the vibration of her phone going off broke her from his gaze.
As she answered the call, Gavin leaned back in his seat and watched her. He knew he might have crossed the line asking such a personal question, but he was unable to fight his instinct in not doing so. He had spoken with Dillon the night he left her apartment, and although he allowed Dillon to think he believed his story, he didn’t—not even close. He knew his friend all too well. The only question racing through Gavin’s mind was why Emily had fallen for it.
Emily stood up and tucked her phone back into her purse. “That was Dillon. I really have to go.”
Gavin rose to his feet and brushed his hand down her arm. “I hope you’re not upset with my question. My curiosity gets the better of me sometimes.”
She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I’m not mad at you, Gavin. However, to answer the only question that matters here, yes, Dillon makes me happy for many specific reasons. You’ll just have to take a rain check on me listing them for you, okay?”
He nodded as if that answer satisfied him, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t push the issue any further.
He dug into his pants pocket. “Oh, I forgot. I have something for you.”
Gavin reached for her hand. He knew he held onto it just a little longer than he should have, but her skin felt so soft against his that it was hard to let go. Finally, when he knew he had reached his gentlemanly limit, he slipped a bottle cap into her palm.
She looked down and smiled. “So is this going to be an ongoing little thing between us—you giving me a bottle cap every time you see me?”
“That was one of the best games of toss-the-bottle-cap-into-the-pot I’ve ever played,” he laughed. “So, yes, it’ll be our little thing, along with me calling you Molly occasionally, too.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
They made their way outside where Gavin hailed a taxi over for her.
He closed the door behind her after she got in and leaned himself through the window. “She’s going to Columbus and West 74th,” he said, handing the driver money for the ride. “This should cover the fare and your tip.”
He then banged on the top of the roof, alerting the driver that he could leave.
As the taxi pulled away, Emily told the man to stop. She jumped out of the cab as Gavin was walking away.
“Gavin, wait!” she called out, wondering exactly what the hell she was doing.
Gavin turned around with his hands in his pockets. He stared at her from a few feet away.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said, trying to catch a steady breath. “Not just for the cab fare—that was very sweet—but also for…for talking with me about my mother and for stopping by tonight. I know both of those things were hard for you. It was hard for me as well, but…” She looked down to the ground then back to him, willing herself not to sink into his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just rambling on now. I have a tendency to do that. But I just wanted to thank you…thank you, Gavin.”