“No.”
A little silence settled after that, easy enough to let the call start feeling real.
Then she said, “Wait.”
“What.”
“Is that Kut Klose?”
That got my attention all the way.
I looked over at the speaker like it had snitched on me. “Yeah.”
She laughed, and this time there was a little more surprise in it. “Not “Surrender”.”
“It is.”
“Okay, Micah.” She sounded impressed.
“What that mean?”
“It means I wasn’t expecting that from you.”
I smiled into my drink. “You don’t know me well enough yet to be surprised by my taste.”
“I know enough to know most men would’ve had some dry-ass playlist on.”
“Nah. Not in my house.”
That earned me another one of those laughs, softer now, and I liked how pleased she sounded that she had caught it. Liked even more that she knew the song that fast. It did something to me, hearing her clock a deep cut like that off a few seconds of background music. Made her feel sharper. Finer. More specific.
“Okay,” she said. “I can respect that.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get full of yourself.”
Too late.
Then she asked, “So why’d you call?”
“Because texting started feeling thin.”
That earned me another little laugh. “That is almost romantic.”
“Don’t do that.”
“I’m serious,” she said, still smiling. “Men don’t say things like that anymore.”
“Maybe they should.”
“Maybe.”
I let that sit for a second.
Then I heard it again. Ice, then liquid.
“You pouring something?”