““Friends could just be the opening bid,” she whispered, feeling the heat rush into her cheeks. It felt forward to say the words, but she didn’t want him to think she’d sidelined him because of his looks. Damn, but she wasn’t good at this stuff. “Sorry?” he asked in that superior, aloof voice he must have perfected at U.Va. “I’m not calling at friends.” He turned to her slightly. “Are you speaking in poker metaphors, or am I going crazy?” Her lips trembled as she tried not to giggle. The whole conversation had become absurd. “Am I meant to raise?” he teased. “Just don’t fold,” she said, smiling now, realizing how much she liked being with him, despite how he looked, despite the fact that he’d barely been out of his house in eight years. She liked him.””
