Page 13 of Aperture

Wyatt reaches across the table and moves the roll away from my face so he can look me in the eye.

“Tell me,” he pleads.

“No.”

“You know I am a cop. I have my ways.” He doesn’t even need to do that. One look at those eyes and wide smile, and I’m singing like a bird.

“It’s Willa, OK? My name is Milicent Willa Evans.” I take a long sip of wine, looking anywhere but at his face.

“Yeah? That is amazing,” he says, and I get the feeling he honestly likes it. “It suits you.”

“How so?” I ask skeptically.

“It’s beautiful and original. Milicent,” he says, letting the name roll off his lips.

“While I appreciate that, Millie will do just fine.”

“Got it,” he says.

“What’s your middle name?” I ask.

“Nothing nearly as authentic as that. My full name is Wyatt Noah Hudson.”

How nice it must feel to share your full name and not cringe.

I shake my head in disbelief.

“What?” he questions.

“It’s just a hot guy's name. Just like your hot guy car.”

“My hot guy car?” He laughs. “What does that even mean?”

“Nothing. It suits you.” I repeat his words, eliciting a smirk from those perfect lips.

“So, did you always want to be a cop?” I ask.

“I always had an interest in law enforcement,” he answers. “My dad is a retired detective, so it seemed natural to follow in his footsteps.”

“I bet he’s very proud of you,” I tell him.

He contemplates that statement for a moment. “He is, but he never wanted me to do this. It can be tough on people, mentally.”

“That makes sense,” I acknowledge.

I can’t believe how easily the conversation is flowing. Our server comes by with our salads as we continue to get to know one another.

“Do you date a lot?” I ask him and inwardly wince because I don’t want to know.

“No,” he answers. “Not at all.”

“Really?” I ask in disbelief.

“Really,” he says.

“But, I mean, have you seen you?”

He chuckles, and it makes me feel giddy.