"Ikea."
"Ikea?" Kaylee arches a brow. "Really?"
I nod.
She pushes her blue glasses up her nose. "Why?"
"Three-dollar meatballs are enough of a reason."
"Ew."
"They're good. Try them." I let the back of my hand brush against her arm as I lead her to the car.
She moves around the back and reaches for the passenger-side door. "I'll consider it."
I unlock the car and pull the door open. "You trust me?"
She shoots me a really look as she slides inside. "It has nothing to do with trust."
"Nothing?"
"Yeah, nothing." She clicks her seatbelt. Sets her purse in her lap. Plays with its strap. "No offense, Brendon, but don't you have more money than that?"
I can't help but chuckle. "I'm a humble craftsman."
"With a million-dollar house on the beach. Or, um, I guess I've never asked about your finances."
"Don't. I've got it under control."
Her lip corners turn down. "I... Did my parents offer to help you out?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"I turned them down."
"And you can afford that?"
"Yeah."
She stares at me, those green eyes wide. "If you don't convince me with some numbers, I'm going to start buying groceries. And trying to cook dinner. And no wants that."
My chest warms. Kaylee's a terrible cook. It's the only thing she isn't good at. I nod. "That's horrifying."
"Yeah, even worse than what those assassins did to John Wick's dog."
Fuck, it's like she's trying to drive me out of my mind.
Kay always joins me when I watch action movies on the couch. She spends the entire time hiding behind her hands or complaining about how everyone is quick to violence, or about how the plot is incomprehensible, but she keeps watching them.
She doesn't like the movies.
She watches them to hang out with me.
Fuck, I'm not stupid.