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I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Okay…how do we make ourselves more believable?”
“Let’s play a game. Two truths and a lie. You know it?”
“Of course. How is this going to help?”
“We’ll learn things about each other in a non-boring way.”
“Talking is boring?”
He rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Not to you, it isn’t. But why not spice it up even more? You go first.”
“This was your idea. You should go first.”
“All right. Here goes: I didn’t finish college, I’m allergic to shellfish, and I crashed my first car the day I got it.” He raised a brow in challenge. “Which one’s the lie?”
I leaned over in my chair to peer closely at him. This wasn’t as easy as I’d expected it to be.
“You crashing your car feels on brand,” I said.
“Okay. What do you think is my other truth, and what’s the lie?”
I tapped my cheek, mulling it over. “The lie is shellfish. I don’t think you’re allergic.”
“Errr.” He made the sound of a buzzer. “Wrong. Give me a shrimp and give me death.”
“Wow. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t put any shellfish in the food I’ve given you. I was experimenting with clam cupcakes…”
He pressed a finger to my lips, shushing me. “No, no, Daisy. Never mention that again.”
Batting his hand away, I laughed. “All right, so you didn’t graduate from college. Weren’t your parents mad?”
“Nah. To be honest, I’m not sure they even realize I didn’t graduate. They just stopped getting bills for my tuition my junior year and never asked why.”
“Did you flunk out?”
He chuffed at my question. “I dropped out voluntarily. The social part of college was the only thing I enjoyed. Classes were torture. It might take you by surprise, but I have ADHD.”
“No…” My mouth curved into a smirk. I wasn’t surprised at all. Earlier, I’d noticed his medicine bottles lined up next to the kitchen sink. Even on good meds, Miles was still heavy on the H, moving, fidgeting, bouncing on his toes.
“You little shit,” he muttered. “Ten years ago, I had no idea how to regulate myself. I was all over the place. I’ve figured out I need to be busy with a variety of work. Hence, the house, the job. No two days are the same, so I stay interested and focused.”
“Good for you. College isn’t for everyone. Beau didn’t go at all, and he’s doing well for himself in Wyoming. I went, got an English degree, and now I make my living building websites and making—”
“Meat cups.” He beamed at me, clearly amused with himself. “Your turn. Let’s see if I do better than you.”
Meat cups. If he didn’t stop saying that, I was bound to slip up and call them that myself.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, here we go: I’ve never touched a dead body, I was in a sorority, I don’t eat cupcakes.”
His eyes flared. “Wow. You want this game to be impossible for me, huh?”
“Did you need me to go easier on you?”
“Never.” He got up from his seat and leaned his back against the deck railing. “Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen you eat a cupcake, so as much as it pains me, I’m going to say that one’s true. The other two, shit, Daisy-daze, I’m stumped. On the one hand, there’s no way you would have willingly joined a sorority, but how could you have never touched a dead body? I’ve touched a couple, and I didn’t grow up in a funeral home.”
“Above a funeral home,” I corrected.
“Sure, sure.” He dipped to squint at me. “Were you in a fucking sorority?”
