“I need to paint my toenails. It’s all chipped polish now.” “What color?” I shrugged, keeping my gaze on my feet, afraid to look up. “What’s your favorite?” He chuckled and made a deep humming noise in his throat. “Hmm, I like red.” “Flirt.” I smiled up at him, tucking back the few strands of hair the wind tried to claim. “Red it is, then.”
