Page 74 of Hot Girls Date Shifters

“But?”

“But...”

I meet his eyes again.

“I was more afraid of staying.”

For a long moment, neither of us says anything.

He just nods.

Like he understands.

Really understands.

“So now,” I say with a smile, “I own a bookstore.”

“And a coffee shop.”

I laugh and nod.

“And a coffee shop.”

“And you're happy.”

My smile softens.

It feels different answering him.

Like the truth matters.

“Well, Graham, I think I am. Or I’m starting to be.”

His answering smile is small.

Warm.

Like hearing that somehow means something to him.

“So what about you?” I ask. “You've mentioned songwriting.”

His shoulders relax against the booth.

“Well, I've always written music.”

He tells me about winning a televised singing competition.

“Oh my God, you did? I am such a dope,” I say, embarrassed by my lack of recognition.

“You are no such thing. Not everyone watched reality TV, Honey,” he says with a grin.

“So, you’re famous?”

“Not really,” he lies. I know it’s a lie because, hello, he must be. But he’s trying to make me feel better for not knowing who he is, and I decide to let him.

He keeps talking, and I listen to him intently. I eat up his stories.

About touring.