“I’m sure livestock veterinarians still eat burgers.” I shake my head. “I don’t think I could do it. I couldn’t spend all day fixing and healing those animals just to go home and eat them.” He leans against the tank, crossing his arms and watching me. “Good thing you’re a meteorologist and not a veterinarian, then,” he says. “You’re right. I can’t go home and eat a hurricane.” He smiles and pulls away from the tank, taking a step toward me. “You’re really something else, you know that, Naomi?” He’s so close that I have to crane my neck up to see him. When I do, he tilts his chin down, and a
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I don't understand the sudden cues in their romance.
