Page 10 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

A friendly side hug, that’s all.

But then she leaned in and snuggled closer, resting her head at the edge of his collarbone. The temptation to turn and wrap her up in a full embrace was strong, but he forced himself to stay put.

He spoke into her hair. “I feel that way sometimes, too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t elaborate on what she’d meant. Neither did he.

They remained that way until the timer dinged, and Jamie pulled out their soufflés—two of which had risen to glorious heights.

“Those two were mine,” May said immediately.

“The batter was the same. There’s no ‘yours’ and ‘mine.’”

“I poured those two. I’m sure of it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I want to argue, but the gentleman in me is pushing back hard.”

She grinned and grabbed a spoon, but he held up a hand. “Wait, there’s one last step in the recipe. There should be a chocolate bar and a peeler around somewhere so we can add shavings to the top.”

He looked around for a few seconds before realizing she hadn’t moved, and then he noticed her scrunched nose and pursed lips. “What? What’s wrong?” Did he have something on his face?

“Do whatever you want to yours,” she said, gesturing to the sad, sunken soufflés. “But that would completely ruin this for me. I hate chocolate.”

He stared at her. Blinked.

Stared some more.

Her expression transitioned into an eye roll. “It’s not that weird.”

“Hold on. I think I’m dissociating.”

“Stop it.”

“Are you serious? You don’t like chocolate?” He’d once eaten four of his sister’s chocolate-mousse brownies in a single sitting. No regrets.

“Hate’s a pretty strong word and one I rarely use, but in this case it’s warranted. I can’t even stand the smell of it.”

“What?”

She put the spoon down and put a few fingers to her forehead. “God, you’re acting like I just grew a second head.”

“That would be less shocking. I can’t even wrap my mind around this. People who don’t like chocolate don’t exist.”

She looked like she was about to argue, then stopped and cocked her head. “Does that mean I’m like ... a unicorn?”

He laughed, the image of her with a golden horn popping up unbidden in his brain. “Or a narwhal.”

She laughed a little, too, but regarded him with a slight frown. “The fact that you basically just compared me to a whale aside, you know narwhals are real, right?”

“What?”

“Narwhals aren’t mystical creatures. They actually exist.”

Okay, he wasn’t falling for chocolate aversionandnarwhals. “No way.”

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