Jingle meowed loudly, and he scooped up the kitten. “So ready.”
“I was born with an extra toe.”
He blinked. “Big one or little one?”
“Little.” She paused and flashed a grin. “You weren’t expecting that one, were you?”
“Nope.”
She laughed. “It usually freaks people out and I catch them trying to get a glimpse of my toes. It’s not there, by the way. My parents had it removed when I was two because it hindered my balance and made it hard for me to walk.” She finished her coffee and pushed the mug aside.
“Your turn. Tell me something about you I’d never guess. Not in a million years.”
“Okay.” He nodded and rocked back on his feet. “I was an altar boy until I was twelve.”
“Not good enough.” She shook her head. “Lame, actually.”
“Okay. Hold on.” He scratched Jingle under the chin and set her on the counter. “I’ve never broken a bone.”
“That’s surprising, I’ll give you that, but still pretty lame.”
“We’re going hard-core, I see.”
“We are.”
He looked at her and grinned. “I’m not sure if you’re ready for this one.”
“I’m ready.” She leaned forward, and Jingle jumped onto her lap.
“I can recite the entire Pledge of Allegiance.”
“So can I.”
“Backward.”
Her right eyebrow shot up at that. “All right. That’s impressive. I’m not sure why you would ever want to do that, but yes, impressive.” She angled her head a bit and grinned. “What’s the most embarrassing you’ve ever done?”
“Man, I don’t think we have enough time for this.” Beck grabbed her empty mug and set it in the sink. He was thinking of something he hadn’t thought of in a long, long time.
“I’m man enough to admit that I’m not fond of heights. It’s kind of something that comes with age. Being comfortable in admitting your faults or weaknesses. But as a teen, it was something I was embarrassed about. My senior year of high school, we had a class trip to Canada. We went to Ottawa and Toronto. When we got Toronto, we had some free time, and Cate wanted to go to the top of the CN Tower. Then some other kids wanted to come along, and how could I say no? I didn’t want her to think I was a wimp. If you’re not familiar with it, the structure is similar the needle in Seattle. So up I go, and there’s this glass bottom on the damn thing. I took one step out and lost it. I hyperventilated, fell backward, and knocked myself out. They had to call EMS.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess it didn’t matter to Cate,” she said softly when he looked up. “In the end.”
He shook his head and laughed. “No. She never let me forget it, but she was okay having a height-averse boyfriend.” He leaned back against the counter. “What about you?”
“Oh.” She made a face. “It’s pretty bad.”
“I’m waiting.”
“I see that.” She sighed. “Well, when I was a freshman in college, I hung out with a large group of friends. A mixture of guys and girls. On winter break, a bunch of us went to Colorado on a ski trip. There was this one guy, Vance was his name.”
“Vance. Sounds like a serial killer.”
“I know,” she replied with a chuckle. “He was cute, though, with long hair and soulful eyes. He used to quote Jim Morrison poetry. Anyway, we ended up sleeping in this large open room with like, eight beds, so there were a lot of us crammed in there. He was in my bed, and you know, things were getting hot and heavy, and he, ah…”