“Veggie burgers,” Asha adds from beside him. Andy gives her a look, and she dips her roller in the blue paint and says, “Someone has to represent the voice of the nonmeat eaters, okay?”
“Yeah, all one of you.”
I look past them toward Sam. He’s standing in a corner, detailing the trim with a small brush.
I want to run up to him. I want to tell him exactly what I’m thinking—what his grin does to me. How I didn’t think my crazy, upside-down, discombobulated life could ever make as much sense as it does right now. That hate is easy, but sometimes love is easy, too. When you find it.
But then Sam turns around, eyes lighting up when he sees me, tilted smile spreading over his face, and it’s like he knows everything. Everything.
And I don’t have to say a word.
* * * * *