Page 53 of Rain or Shine

Her lips purse as she considers my question. “You’re mindful. Your eyes are always working like your brain is in constant overdrive, and you’re always watching everyone around you. I doubt much gets past you. You’re always paying attention.”

“It’s called having trust issues.”

She barks out a laugh. “Or it’s called being observant.”

“That too.” I grin, and her cheeks warm.

I could get lost in her eyes, so it’s disappointing when she glances away.

“I don’t mind people who are different,” she says. “I’ve felt on the outside most of my life. I’ve always been a little too loud and opinionated. It used to bother me when people would bring it up, but I’m trying to not be so hard on myself.”

“Good, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re not too much of anything. Anyone who tells you that isn’t enough for you.”

“I suppose.” She bites her lip, and I sense she wants to believe me but doesn’t, and it’s a shame. I love the little quirks she sees as flaws, and the more she talks, the more I want her to talk all night. “My psychology professor would have agreed with you. He had this motto: the weirder the better. That’s probably why I aced his class.”

“Because he thought you were weird?”

“Because my papers always focused on the strange, messy bits that make people unique.” Her hand lands on my leg, excitement bubbling in her voice. “Take my final, for example. My entire thesis was built around one question: what is the first thing you would do if you woke up and were the last person on earth? I was trying to prove that extreme situations are what define a person.”

“There’s nothing more extreme than the end of the world.”

She smiles. “Exactly, and it was very telling. Some people went into survival mode. Others couldn’t get past the realization that it would have meant they lost their loved ones. Some couldn’t even answer because they were too busy overanalyzing. Then there were the thrill-seekers who said they’d do something wild like go where they weren’t allowed. Everyone said something a little different, but it definitely revealed a little about their personality.”

I take a sip of whiskey, then hand her the bottle. “If that’s the case, what would you do?”

Harloe’s lips wrap the whiskey bottle, and I’m burning up. When she pulls it free, her tongue darts out to clean a drop off her lip. I bet she tastes so fucking good.

“Depends.” Her lips purse, pulling my attention back to my question. “What kind of apocalypse are we talking about? Did everyone just die all of a sudden? Were they abducted by aliens, but I was left behind? Are there zombies everywhere or meteors falling from the sky?”

“What was your scenario for your paper?”

She points at me, whiskey bottle in hand. “I didn’t give those specifics, which is my point. That’s how I would have responded.”

“So you’re an overanalyzer?” I chuckle. “Got it.”

“Maybe. Or I just like to know the full scope of what I’m dealing with before committing.” She takes another drink, her eyes avoiding mine like there’s more behind that comment. “What about you, Shane?” Harloe sets the whiskey bottle down, leaning against me. “What’s the first thing you would do if it was the end of the world?”

“If I could do anything?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums.

“I’d probably climb on my bike and just ride. As long and far as I could.”

Harloe’s head lifts to look at me. “You could do that now.”

“Yeah, theoretically. But then I’d be leaving people hanging who are counting on me, and I can’t do that. If it was the end of the world though… I’d just ride, and there would be nothing to worry about anymore because it would all be done. I’m sure that gives you plenty to psychoanalyze.”

She smiles. “You’re dependable.”

“That’s your takeaway?”

“In summary.” She shrugs, a smile teasing her lips. “Being dependable is good. People can count on you.”

A knot forms in my throat. I’d like to think people can count on me, but I’ve been wrong before. I promised Grant I’d be there for him, and in the end, I wasn’t.

Harloe and I lock gazes, and if I had to guess, she senses some of those thoughts working in my eyes. But she doesn’t ask. She respects our unspoken boundaries.

After a long pause, she clears her throat, glancing away. “This brings back memories of my wedding night.”