Page 25 of Unforgettable

Oz looks at me knowingly. “Would you like me to pick?”

My shoulders sag in relief. “Please.”

He glances up at Aisha. “Can we have the Roasted Sweet Potatoes, the Tomato Risotto, and the French Onion Grilled Cheese Sandwich?”

“Would you like those all to be served together?”

“Yes. Please,” Oz supplies.

Aisha gives us both a warm smile as she finishes scribbling on her pad of paper. “It won’t be too long. Would you like any drinks with that?”

I point to the water. “I’m good for now, thank you.” She looks at Oz and he nods. “The water’s good for me too.”

Once she leaves the table, I return my focus to Oz and the conversation. “It was really sweet of you to change your diet so your sister didn’t have to do it alone.”

“You make it sound a lot more chivalrous than it was,” he says shyly. “I’m sure anyone else would do the same.”

I think about my relationship with my own sister, and while we’re close, I can’t guarantee if we were in Oz’s shoes, either one of us would’ve even thought to make the sacrifice in the beginning.

“So, do you have any more siblings?” I reach for the jug of water, filling each of our glasses before taking a long, refreshing sip as I wait for him to answer.

“I have three older sisters,” he tells me. “Dixie, Maddy, and Kat.”

“Are you all close in age?”

“Fairly close. Kat is thirty-five, Dixie is thirty-one, and Maddy is twenty-eight. She’s the one who had the stroke, and the one whom I’m closest to.”

Nodding in understanding, I add, “And you’re twenty-five?”

“Have you been stalking my Blush profile?” he teases.

“I have a really good memory,” I say with a smirk, not admitting that I did actually look for it after our night together.

“What about you? Siblings?”

“I, too, have an older sister and am the only boy. She’s close to your age. She turns twenty-five at the end of the year.”

“And you’re twenty-three,” he interjects. “I’ve got a good memory too.”

I can’t help but follow up with a laugh of my own. “What else do you remember?”

It’s a precarious question, but it slips out of my mouth, nonetheless.

“Is this a trap?” Oz asks. “Because I’m pretty sure everything I remember is not safe for public conversation.”

I chuckle. “Let me rephrase. Do you remember anything safe for public conversation?”

“You mentioned you were originally from Connecticut, like you were somewhere else before you came here?”

The question hangs in the balance, and I take the plunge, because talking about yourself is how you make friends, and I do want Oz and I to be friends.

“I went to Seattle for college,” I start. “Got my degree in business and finance.”

Oz’s face contorts in an unnameable expression, and I can’t help but laugh at the sight.

“You went to school for business and finance?” he asks, his shock much more obvious now. “I can’t say I would’ve picked that.”

“What would’ve been your guess?”

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