“Uh, one, there are a lot, and two, it’s Pearl Jam. You have to listen to them on CD.”
I tried not to laugh again, my lips twitching with the urge. “Okay.”
“Never listened to Pearl Jam,” he muttered, incredulous.
Choking on laughter, I replied, “It’s not a punishable crime.”
“That’s a shame. I could find a very creative way to punish you.”
I blushed and threw a napkin at him. “You have a filthy mind, Mr. Caplin.”
He grunted. “Of course I do. I’m sixteen years old.” He pushed the picnic up the blanket and I watched warily, wondering where he was going with this. In the end all he did was stretch out on his back, arms behind his head as he gave me an inviting smile. Casually, I lay down beside him, feeling the heat of his body as if it were pressed against mine. I’d left space between us so he wouldn’t get any funny ideas.
While we stared up at the stars, it occurred to me that we were lying there in this perfectly comfortable silence I’d never felt with anyone before.
“Just call it ‘Eddie.’”
Jake snorted. “What?”
“‘The Vedder’ doesn’t trip off the tongue. Eddie’s simpler.”
“You want me to call my pickup ‘Eddie’?”
“It’s just a suggestion.”
“He’s not the dog from Frasier. He’s a pickup.”
“Call him ‘Ford’ then.”
“He’s not a businessman with a stick up his ass.”
Now it was my turn to snort. “Zorro?”
“I get the feeling you’re not taking this seriously.”
“No, I am. Naming a truck is very important. I was going for masculine. Powerful.”
“And you came up with Zorro?”
“The Hulk? Batman? The Batmobile?”
“I’m not even humoring you on those.”
“Alan? Bob?”
“You’re so lucky you’re cute.”
“Ozzy? Lennon? Morrison? Joplin?”
“Charley …”
“Hendrix.”
Jake stilled next to me and I felt his gaze on my face as he turned to stare at me. “I like that,” he murmured softly.
I turned my head to meet his eyes and smiled. “Hendrix?”
“Yeah, it’s cool.”