Page 43 of Dance with Me on New Year's Eve

His eyes rose in my direction. “And you only know that because you’re from the same generation as I am.”

“It’s not worth it, Roxy. He never lets anyone win an argument. Trust me, I’ve tried.” She had a sparkle in her eye, so I knew she was still teasing him. It was so strange; I hadn’t known he was capable of being teased.

The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly. “Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, sweetie. There’s another old expression for you.”

Lila just grinned and shook her head before abruptly turning around and wobbling toward the kitchen. We followed as she headed to the door to the garage.

I hadn’t even realized he was so close when suddenly he whispered, “Sorry you got dragged into this. I’ll do my best to keep it short.”

Just to be contrary, I shrugged and said, “I’m cool with whatever.” As though I was some kind of cool girl.

I opened the backseat of the SUV and realized I wouldn’t be sitting there. One seat back was down to accommodate the length of … “Tiki torches? Why are we bringing those?”

Lila popped her head into the other side of the backseat. “They’re for decorating.”

“Decorating what?” I asked as I climbed into the front seat at the same time Jeff slid into the driver’s seat.

“It’s a mystery,” he said dryly. Then he shrugged and turned the car on. “She wanted to bring them.”

Who was this man? He looked almost relaxed as he backed out of the garage and down the driveway. He was gruff most of the time, but it was an affectionate kind of gruff.

He … he’d do anything for Lila.

It floored me.

I stayed quiet as Lila chattered, with occasional short replies from Jeff. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around this Jeff.

Had I been totally wrong about him?

“Roxanne,” he said sharply.

I blinked a few times.

Nope, I wasn’t wrong about him. He was still a jerk.

“Are you going to answer Lila?”

“I—what?” I swung my head around toward the backseat. “Sorry, what did you ask?”

“I asked what your favorite season and holiday are! Dad says he hates choosing favorites, so he’s no fun.”

I heard him sigh next to me as I gazed out the window at the array of trees beginning to show autumn colors. “Sometimes itishard to choose. I mean, this early fall is so beautiful. Watching the glistening white landscape after a long snow can be so serene. Spring is lovely because everything comes back to life, and the days get longer. And summer is … my favorite, I guess. I don’t even know why! I don’t particularly enjoy the humid Midwest heat, the mosquitoes, pool parties … but there’s just something about summer.”

“Wow, you sound like a poet. The kind that doesn’t rhyme.”

“Thank you … I think?” I don’t even know what came over me.

I snuck a glance at Jeff, and he was obviously wondering the same thing. I never said stuff like that. And if I did, it wasn’t spontaneous.

It must be Lila.

Even a person with strong social anxiety symptoms can sometimes benefit from being around a person like that: someone who puts everyone at ease and yet draws them out. Not just fellow extraverts, buteveryone.

Hazel was like that when we first met. But something changed in our dynamic over time, and I don’t know what happened. Apart from Hazel, I couldn’t recall meeting many people like that since I moved here.

Lila was only a child, yet she possessed that special quality. It definitely wasn’t hereditary in her case.

She prodded both of us with some more questions, and Jeff eventually convinced her to listen to some music.

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