Page 27 of The Keeper and I

She was surprised she heard the question with how distracted she was by the warmth in his stunning brown eyes. She blinked.

“Um. Yes. I do. We should definitely know more about each other.”

She followed his hands—those large, strong hands—as he placed a couple of pieces of sushi onto her plate.

“But I feel like you’ve got an unfair advantage,” she said.

“How’s that?”

“I put so much of my life online—like the peonies. But the only things I know about you is that you’re Scottish, play for Stanmore, and you’ve got a sister called Ava.”

“Alright.” He placed her chopsticks neatly on the side of her plate and slid them toward her. “Ask me anything.”

She locked eyes with him again. “Anything?”

“If I don’t want to answer, I’ll let you know.”

Her mind went blank. These last few days, she’d been thinking nonstop about the things she wanted to ask him. Now that the moment had arrived, she couldn’t remember any of them. She took a roll of sushi into her mouth. She chewed and cursed herself for not jotting a list down in her notes app like she had for Britt. She decided to start with the obvious.

“Okay, easy one. What part of Scotland are you from?”

“Glasgow,” he said.

“That’s right—Rangers fan.”

“See, you knew something else about me.”

She chuckled. “That’s hardly significant.”

“Ask me something significant then.”

That stumped her. She paused, popping another piece of sushi into her mouth. Then, she remembered a question she read in a dating advice article. “When’s the last time you cried?”

He blinked and shook his head. “What?”

“You can’t question the questions.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know when I cried last?”

“How do younotknow?”

“Am I meant to keep a record somewhere?”

“Just answer,” she insisted through a giggle.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. “Fuck…I dunno. I guess when my parents separated.”

Her heart sank. “Oh—gosh, I’m sorry. When did that happen?”

“Fifteen years ago, I think.”

She nearly choked on her next bite. “What? You haven’t cried infifteen years?”

“Not a tear,” he said nonchalantly as he took a bite of his own. After he swallowed, he looked at her. “When’s the last time you cried?”

“Last night, when I watchedTitanic. And don’t you dare judge me. It’s my favorite film and it’s a masterpiece.”

He shrugged again. “Can’t judge you, I’ve never seen it.”