“I don’t. Can I use yours?” I ask. “I’ll put pretty boy right over my heart.” “You never stop, do you?” “Nope. Twenty-four-seven job, Red. But at least I made you smile again.” “You did not make me smile.” Emerson flips to the next page and signs two more times. “You’re imagining things.” “Is that why you’re biting your bottom lip?” “I’m biting my bottom lip so I don’t snap at you.” “It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it. We can pretend you’re smiling for the camera. Look. There’s one over there.” I wave and grin at the long lens pointed at us. “Say hi.” “You’re exhausting.”
