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“Only when I’m cleaning and no one’s looking. I’m not very coordinated.”
“I’m pretty sure I have two left feet. So we won’t have dancing at our wedding, okay? Then…ten lords a leaping,” he went on, hardly giving me time to register that he thought we were getting married. “They’d better leap away from you if they don’t want to deal with me. So eleven pipers piping. Do you play an instrument or have any other hobbies?”
“No instrument, unless you count the recorder in third grade. I make and sell stickers. And can we go back to the marriage thing?”
“It’s happening. No instruments for me, either. Twelve drummers drumming. What’s your favorite song?”
“Love Story…the old Taylor Swift song. What’s yours?”
“Despacito.”
“I hear it’s filthy if you translate it.”
“You have no idea.” He chuckled then tapped the cards on the table. “So, coffee? I think we’re done here.”
Should I? It was crazy, going off with a stranger, but I honestly couldn’t make myself listen to reason.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Let’s go.”
