Page 79 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“The sharing,” I say.

“The... what?” He shakes his head like he has no idea what I’m talking about, but when he glances toward me, he smirks.

“You’re teasing me,” I say dryly. “I’m baring my soul, and you’re teasing.”

“If you think this is baring your soul, we’re in trouble.” He laughs to himself.

I go still, except for the gentle bouncing of the cart.

I’m glad when he chooses to keep things light. Keeping thingslight is my forte. “Is this because it’s the only way for you to uncover all my dark secrets?” And I hear flirtation in the question, though maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

I laugh. “No, it seems the people around here are more than willing to talk about you.”

“Oh, I bet they are,” he says, chagrined. “Hopefully you’re smart enough not to believe everything you hear.”

“I am,” I say. “Though separating Booker Hayes fact from fiction is a little tricky without direct access to the source.”

“Maybe that’s better anyway. I’m not sure anyone really knows what they’re talking about,” he says lightly.

“I mean, they told me you’re a very good person, so you might be right.”

He laughs genuinely, then banters back, “No, that part’s true.”

“And apparently you don’t have any interest in dating.” I frown. “Or you haven’t found the right woman. Or, I don’t know, someone said something, and I tuned them out.” I keep my tone light, teasing.

He starts to respond but goes silent instead.

“Not that that matters, you know, to me,” I say, filling in the space. “Because I’m leaving and you’re here, and not that you and I are, you know,interestedin being more than friends, but we literally can’t because I refuse to do long distance, and—”

“I get it,” he cuts me off. “You can’t fall in love with me.”

“Uh, no,” I say, all mock defiance. “It’syouwho can’t fall in love withme.”

He presses his lips together and gives me a once-over so quick I almost miss it. “No promises.”

Now I’m the one who goes silent.

He reaches for a bottle of water that’s in the cup holder and takes a drink. “So have you thought through how this plan is going to go?” He glances at me. “I mean, I’m sure you’ll have a list of rules, right? Oh, shoot...”

He swerves and narrowly misses a cone that had been set up next to a storm drain, and the turn jolts me toward him. I instinctively grab on to his arm.

It’s the first time I’ve actually put my hands on him, and it’s like my skin is plugged into a light socket.

I immediately scoot away, as if the added space between us will make me feel safer somehow. Seconds later, I realize it doesn’t. If a simple accidental touch can have that effect on me, I’m doomed.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

I wave him off. “No biggie.”You’ve seen down my shirt already. I might as well spend the rest of this ride on your lap.“And to answer your question about rules... I don’t have any, but I’ll work on it. Wearesort of working together, so I want to make sure to keep things professional.”

He shoots me a look while simultaneously slowing the cart. “There’s nothing professional about feelings, Rosie.”

“But we’re working together,” I say. “On the show.”

“I’m volunteering to help with the show,” he corrects.

“Right,” I say, “volunteering.”

“So any, you know, human-resources-type things aren’t an issue,” he deadpans, but with a glint.

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