When they deep dive into my life they’ll find out I go to trivia, I cross-stitch in my free time, and I read dirty books. No one cares about me. I’m not you, Ryan. It’s you they worship. So, please, let me go be a social butterfly because I’m starved for attention.” Her eager brown eyes lighten with humor. “You cross-stitch?” “Proudly.” “You grandma.” She smiles at that, matching the now relaxed grin on my lips. “Are you sure?”
