“Not for me. I think I need coffee first.” Lizzy suppresses a yawn, and I chuckle.
“I could actually go for some coffee.” I had a rough night of sleep since I kept hearing Brooke in the living room watching TV instead of going to bed. I wanted to make sure I was awake in case she needed someone to talk to. Ever since David passed away, she’s struggled with sleep.
“Really?” Lizzy scrunches up her face.
“Coffee at a concert? These events were made for day drinking,” Erik says, and Lizzy shrugs.
“I’ll let this pass for now.” Dani points at her. “Beer makes you frisky and the day is too young to handle that.”
Lizzy’s eyes widen and she hisses Dani’s name, but she’s already walking away with Erik.
“It doesn’t make me frisky!” she argues.
Luke laughs beside me, and I stare at Lizzy, the idea of her being frisky shouldn’t seep into my brain. Her cheeks are pink as she looks away.
“That’s why you got drunk and tried to kiss my cousin when he was visiting.” Luke cackles, but my eyebrows furrow. I didn’t take her for the kind of girl to corner guys and kiss them. It doesn’t matter if she is, but something in me stirs uncomfortably.
“Luke! I was seventeen and hadn’t been kissed. I wasn’t about to have my first—or any—kiss with you guys.” She throws her hands up in the air, face flaming as they laugh. “I’m gonna go grab a frap.” She walks away while mumbling, “And crawl into a hole to hide.”
Seventeen… So she was a late bloomer when it comes to kissing. I smile at that because for some reason it doesn’t surprise me after the interactions we’ve had. There’s an innocent sweetness to Lizzy that is so different from the life I had growing up.
“I’m joking, Lizzy,” Luke calls out.
“I’ll be back,” I say, following her in the direction of the coffee shop. I have a feeling this is going to be a long day, and I need caffeine before I sit on a bench and fall asleep like an old man.
“Coffee is your love language, right?” I stand in line beside Lizzy.
She jumps and looks at me with her hand on her chest. “You scared the crap out of me. Coffee is a must. I woke up way too early, and if I start day drinking, I won’t be awake to watch the closing song.”
“I get that.” I nod, stepping along with her as the line moves.
Silence stretches between us while I try to think of what to talk to her about without using Walker as a conversation crutch.
“Walker told me you helped him practice his subtraction,” Lizzy says, using my nephew as her own crutch. I smile at the idea and nod.
“I figured he’s too smart to rely on a calculator. You know, in case the dinosaurs return,” I tease her.
“I say the stupidest stuff.” She shakes her head and looks straight ahead.
“Creative stuff,” I correct her.
“Right. Creative, silly, ridiculous. Take your pick on the adjectives, but I’m queen of making a fool of myself.” She rolls her eyes.
“We don’t need to take ourselves too seriously.”
“Says the man with a terrible sense of humor and short responses.” She arches an eyebrow, staring at me shamelessly now.
“Sense of humor is relative.” I shrug.
“That’s true. Some people think comedians are hilarious, but a lot of them just make me cringe. Now, there’s this video on social media about a goat always stealing the phone from its owner, and that cracks me up.” She giggles, and the sound of it hits like a sip of whiskey after a long day of work. It’s warming and soothing.
“A goat?” I lift my eyebrows.
“Yeah, he thinks he’s super sly, but we’re all watching him attempt to steal it. It’s comedy gold, though, because it just shows the personality. Who knew goats were so mischievous?”
“Not me,” I say.
“What can I get you?” The barista interrupts our conversation.