He shrugged. “I like what it says. Nadia’s kind of like you. A little Type A, a little uptight.” Lauren hit him, mocking annoyance. “Not a lot, but you know, she, like you, has a. . .ahem. . .a hard time having fun. Might be a good reminder to live in the moment, right?”
“I do not have a hard time having fun,” she said. “I went sledding today, thankyouverymuch.”
“Because I forced you,” he said. “You’re welcome.”
“I would’ve gotten there eventually. And by the end, I was racing those little kids down that hill.” She grinned. “And I won.”
He studied her smile, noticing the way it turned up a little higher on one side, like she was holding back, and then it disappeared altogether.
“You said I don’t take anything seriously,” he said. “But really, I’m just trying not to take a single minute for granted.”
She nodded her approval. “Then I think that’s the perfect gift.”
He winced. “Not too cheesy?”
“Not at all.”
He got the attention of the young woman behind the table and purchased the necklace while Lauren meandered away, seemingly lost in the twinkling wonder of it all.
After he paid, he joined her at the next booth—a wide array of various homemade cheeses and jams on display—wondering—fearing—what it was that had her so quiet.
“Do you think I take moments for granted?” She moved on toward a booth filled with homemade soy candles.
“From the little bit I know about you,” he offered, “maybe. But honestly, I admire your drive. I’m hoping some of it will rub off on me.”
“Ha. Only if you’re lucky.”
He didn’t disagree. Although maybe he had a different definition of ‘lucky’ than she did. “Soo. . .since you know my deepest, darkest secrets now, can we maybe call a truce?”
She stopped walking and faced him squarely. “Were we at war?”
“You were definitely at war with me,” he said.
She looked away. “Sorry about that. I think…” she trailed off, “I guess I thought I knew you.”
“Ah.” He jabbed two thumbs at himself. “Frat boy.”
She hesitated slightly. “Well, no. . .I mean, yeah, I guess. Just someone who loved sports and loved. . .girls.”
Will pondered this. “You didn’t like what you thought you knew.”
She shrugged. “We’re just very different people.”
They walked a few steps in silence, until she quirked a brow up at him. “But even Elizabeth Bennet had to admit when she’d misjudged Mr. Darcy, so I suppose I can do the same.” She stuck out her hand.
He felt his mouth crawl into a smile as he slipped his hand in hers and shook it slowly, noticing the way her cool skin felt against his. “No idea what you’re talking about, but if it means we can be friends, great.”
She straightened. “You don’t know Pride and Prejudice?”
He grimaced. “Chick flick?”
“It’s a book,” she said flatly.
He shrugged, still holding on to her hand.
“It’s the best romance novel ever written. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy spend an agonizing amount of time misjudging each other and completely misunderstanding the other’s motives. Their mutual disdain for each other is because they’re both proud and prejudiced and. . .”
“Kind of sounds like you and me,” he said.
Her forehead wrinkled. “No. Mr. Darcy was hopelessly in love with Elizabeth and. . .” She trailed off, a blush rising to her cheeks as he slowly raised his eyebrows at her.
“She falls hopelessly in love with him?”
She glanced at their hands, still clasped together, then quickly pulled hers away. “Well, of course. It’s a romance novel.”
“Right,” he said. “Sounds kind of silly.”
She gasped, then narrowed her eyes. “You athletes are all the same.”
“Oh?”
“Have you even ever read a novel? Or is that too boring for you?”
“There you go, judging me again,” he said.
She sighed.
“Just like Elizabeth Bennet,” he said. “I know Darcy had his faults, but she writes him off pretty early on, don’t you think? Makes all these assumptions about his actions and his personality, and all the poor guy is trying to do is take care of the people he loves. Plus, she was totally creeping in on his conversation when she was hiding behind the seats at the dance.”