Chapter 8
It only took us a few minutes to settle on where we were eating lunch. Basically, I told him I didn’t care one way or another. When Noah tried to push for me to make a decision, something about how he was treating me so it was my choice, I levelled him with a look.
“You’re the picky one, not me,” I pointed out. “I can find something on any menu.”
“I’m not picky,” he protested as he put the car in gear. I was letting him drive because he wanted to, and it wasn’t as difficult folding myself into his car anymore. Actually, the tiny thing was surprisingly roomy, and now that I wasn’t constantly achy and sore, I fit better. “I just like certain things, that’s all. I’m…particular.”
Normally people called that picky, but I didn’t bother to point that out. His grumbling was kind of a
