Page 55 of Make The Cut

I crinkle my nose, trying to relax into the friendly characters we’re playing. “I hate cucumbers.”

When we were kids, Ryder and I would trade. He’d eat the cucumbers out of my salads or sandwiches and I’d pick out the tomatoes from his. River was never a picky eater like us, though.

“How do youhatecucumbers? They literally taste like nothing. They’re one of the easiest vegetables to eat.”

I shake my head. “They taste like water.”

“And you drink water.” He points at my water glass next to my teacup, which is filled with hibiscus and decorated with rose petals.

“I had a traumatic experience with them.”

His smile quirks up one side of his mouth. “Were you hit over the head with one?”

“No, but Ryder and I once played chubby bunny with cucumber slices.” I shudder at the memory of the precise green shade of Ryder’s vomit. Ew.

“So you hate horses, cucumbers, and… Is there anything else I should know about?”

“I hate dating.” I sip my hibiscus tea and have to hold back my disgust. The colour is pretty, a light pink shade, but it tastes like food colouring and water. Maybe that’s all it is. Fake.

“Horses, cucumbers, and dating.” He ticks them off on his list. “But I thought I helped you get over your fear of horses?”

“Doesn’t mean I have any flaming desire to go to the Kentucky Derby now.”

“You’re not going to become a jockey? That’s too bad. You’d look great in the pants—“

“Do not finish that sentence.” I fight off my smile, but it wins and does a victory dance over my grave. Naoya Sugawa is irresistible even when he’s mad at me for reasons he won’t say.

“Why do you hate dating? Just because your ex was horrible doesn’t mean the next guy will be a dud.”

But maybe the next guy I want doesn’t want me.

I shrug. “It’s a waste of time. Every time I go on a date, I’m thinking about all the other things I could be doing, like organizing my sock drawer or Bedazzling my jeans.”

He chokes on his tea. “You still own a Bedazzler?”

“Why is that so shocking?” It was a birthday gift from my mom when I turned ten, and I’m pretty surehermom gave it to her when she was ten.

“No reason.” He keeps a straight face. “You must not be dating the right guys.”

“Well, there’s no point in dating when I have no idea where my career might take me next.” I shrug.

“What do you mean by that?”

“We both have our secrets.” I want to get the upper hand over him. I want to be mad at him as much as I want to be friends with him. I want to love him as much as I want to hate him.

We finish our tea, give our ratings of the place, and I walk outside just to see my truck being towed away by the parking authorities.

“I told you… you should’ve driven with me,” Naoya says.

I elbow him in the ribs. “Shut up.”

Naoya drives me home, pulling up outside the apartment I used to share with Skye. A lonely night of period dramas and ice cream and face masks awaits me. I think about inviting him inside, but another part of me wants to give him the silent treatment until he spills whatever he’s hiding from me.

“Who is it?” I say.

“What?” He puts the car in park, avoiding my gaze.

I unbuckle my seatbelt but don’t touch the door handle.

---