He sighed. “Well, it appears I have a lot of catching up to do.”
I refocused my attention on him. “Huh?”
“I need to know your whole life story,” he said. “That’s the kind of thing a friend would know, right?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess… What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with the basics. When’s your birthday?” He leaned in and listened intently, like what I had to say was vital information.
“You just missed it.” It was amusing how seriously he took this. “It was August twentieth.”
He frowned. “Oh. That’s too bad. How’d you celebrate?”
“I didn’t. I was stuck in the car, driving up here from Dallas.”
He grimaced. “That’s rough. So that makes you…eighteen or nineteen?”
“Nineteen. What about you?”
“Twenty and my birthday is April twenty-first,” he said. “What’s your favorite color?”
Lost in his impossibly pale blue eyes, I murmured, “Blue,” without really thinking. I really liked that color before I met Thomas, but since I’d met him…well, I think it was my favorite color now. “What’s yours?”
“Gold.” He got a wicked look about him, like he had a secret no one else knew.
“That’s an unusual answer.”
He shrugged. “It’s a color. And it’s breathtaking, if you ask me.” That faint smile tugged on his lips before he moved on. “Next question. Where were you born?”
“Dallas. You?”
“Brentford. It’s a suburb of London.”
My head tilted. “You’re British?” He didn’t sound British.
“We moved to the States when I was pretty young.”
I nodded. “Oh.”
He grinned. “My turn. Any siblings?”
I shook my head. “I’m an only child.”
Surprise crossed his face. “Really?”
I nodded again. “I’m adopted, and my parents can’t have kids of their own, so...”
“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” he asked.
When I bit my lip, he said, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He looked embarrassed.
I shook my head. “It’s not that. I just don’t know very much.” I crossed my arms. “My mom was a teenage runaway, and I don’t know anything about my dad.”
Thomas frowned, like he was deep in thought.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
I shifted, irrationally ashamed of the way I came into this world. I knew it was pointless–I had no control over the circumstances surrounding my conception–but it still made me a little insecure.
I cleared my throat. “So, yeah… That’s all I know. Oh, and I know what she looks like. I keep a picture of her in my wallet.”
“Do you look like her?”
“She’s beautiful, so I’d like to think so.”
The corners of his lips lifted. “You’ve got nothing to worry about there.”
My cheeks reddened. I toyed with the straw wrapper, balling up the paper as I asked, “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“I have a twin sister.”
“Really?” Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Does she go to school here?”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Apparently.”
I opened my mouth to ask what that meant, but he cut me off. “What’s your middle name?”
“Grace. It’s kind of ironic, I know.”
He frowned. “Why is that ironic?”
I laughed. “You’ve met me. I have none.”
He shook his head. “Nonsense–you have plenty of grace. It suits you perfectly.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re lying out your ass, but thanks anyway.” I smiled at him as he laughed. “What about you? What’s your middle name?”
“Thayer. It’s my father’s name. All right, let’s see…next question…” His brows drew together in deep concentration, his fingers tapping the table. It was flattering yet weird how he took this so seriously. “I’ve got it,” he continued. “What’s your favorite flower?”
“Roses. They’re generic, I know, but they’re so pretty… I don’t suppose you have a favorite flower?”
He laughed lightly. “You suppose right. Uh… What’s your major?”
“I’m still undeclared. You?”
“Art history.”
My eyes widened a fraction. “Really? That’s not what I would’ve guessed.”
He smirked. “What would you have guessed?”