Celia looks over at me, her blue eyes searching my face. “I can see why Raylan likes you,” she says. “You’re honest. That’s important to him. He can’t stand being lied to.” “We don’t . . . we’re not . . . ” I trail off. I want to tell Celia that we’re not dating, but I can’t exactly say there’s nothing between us. “I know, I know,” she says, stirring the contents of the frypan. “He told me you weren’t together. But he’s never brought a girl home before.”
