I huff a laugh and pick my fork up again. “Whatever you think, bub.” His eyes widen to a ridiculous degree. “B-U-B. Bub. Holy crap! I never realized.” He lets out a small laugh, sounding so pleased my chest warms. “That’s pretty perfect, isn’t it?” “It is,” I agree, trying not to think too hard about why the endearment felt so good to say. Nor why this right here feels like an infinitely better date than my brief meeting with Lewis, even though this isn’t a date at all. No, I don’t linger on any of that. I enjoy my dinner beside Brad Ulysses Bradley, and when he asks me to tell him more about
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