Page 9 of Run, Little Bunny

“Want to join your friends?” I ask.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’re more interesting.”

8

Staring at her, I wonder if she suspects something about me. She’s too comfortable in this situation. If the roles were reversed, I doubt I’d feel the same.

“Can I see your hand?”

“Why?” She arches a brow, suspicious but intrigued.

“I want to show you one of my bar tricks.”

She smirks but extends her hand. I take it, palm-up. “Just as I thought,” I say, teasing, as I examine the lines.

“What?” She leans in, curious now.

“You’ve got high standards for relationships.”

“What?!” she nearly squeals.

I trace her love line slowly. “It starts under your index finger. That’s not so common.”

“Wait, you read palms?”

“I have sisters.”

Her hand is soft, smaller than I expected. I trace more lines, but my fingers keep returning to the love line. “These branches here … they mean you’re both passionate and reasonable. That’s very attractive.”

“So, I’m not crazy?”

“Time will tell.” She swats my arm. “It means you have a big heart.”

Anna narrows her eyes playfully. “You really trust this ‘science’?”

“I like that it gave me an excuse to hold your hand.”

From the smile on her face, I know it landed.

“You have sisters?” she asks, glancing at me over the mask. I’m still holding her hand. She hasn’t pulled it away, and I decide to keep tracing the lines on her palm.

“Three of them. I’m the oldest.”

“Oldest and youngest …”

“What do you mean?”

“I hear that’s a good match,” she says with a sly smile.

I smirk. Although I know her sister is older, I ask. “You’re the baby?”

“The youngest. Not the baby.”

“You don’t like to be called baby?”

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