“It’s good stuff. Have you tried seaweed salad?”
“Gross.” I wrinkled my nose.
“It’s better than it sounds. Chewy, and it has to have the right dressing. But I love it.”
“Maybe I’ll try it someday.”
“What about you? What’s your favorite?”
“Nachos.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Especially loaded up withall the things.”
He snickered. “I’m down for nachos as long as there’s no guac.”
“What?” I stared at him in horror. “The guac is necessary. Like a vital part of the equation.”
“I don’t like avocado. It’s just green mush.”
“Your palette is so pedestrian.”
“Said the guy whose favorite food is nachos.”
“Don’t dis nachos.”
“I’m not.” He poked me in the side. “But even you have to admit that nachos aren’t exactly high brow.”
“Maybe not, but at least my fave is cooked and not going to give me tapeworms.”
“You’re ridiculous.” He turned back to the TV, a smile on his face.
“In a bad way?”
Shit. Why had my voice gone all high and small just now?
“Nah. In a good way.” He gazed at the screen. “I’m so lost. Why does everyone look like they stepped out of the nineties?”
“Because the show started in the nineties.”
“It’s that old?”
“The word you’re looking for isclassic.”
“How about we put onThe Walking Dead?” he asked. “Still keeping with the supernatural theme, and it was actually made in this century.”
“Oh! Have you heard ofSupernatural?” I perked up.
“Big fan.” He grinned. “I mean, Sam, Dean, and Cas… yeah, major slash vibes there. And I’d call Jeffrey Dean Morgan ‘Daddy’ any day of the week.”
“Right! So freaking hot. Like my entire sexuality in one cast.”
“JDM’s inThe Walking Dead.”
“I don’t like horror things.”
“You’re cool with a high school chick dusting vamps, but not zombies?”