it looks amazing.”
I nod. “Dax, Colin, and I grew up there.”
“That’s so cool you grew up together, and now you’re traveling the world together, living your dreams.”
“Yeah. It’s the best.”
Kat’s laughter rises up, and we turn to look at her. She’s throwing her head back while conversing with her husband and their two best friends.
“That’s Dax’s big sister. Kat.”
“I met her. She seems nice. I don’t think I realized she’s Dax’s sister, though.”
“Keane’s, too. She’s evil, by the way. Pure evil.”
Alessandra’s eyebrows ride up.
“I meant that as a compliment. She’s the best. Very good at getting what she wants.”
Alessandra grins. “My stepsister Georgina is evil in that same way. She’s insanely smart and always figures out a way to get what she wants, without anyone realizing that’s what she’s doing.”
“Exactly. That’s an impressive skill, isn’t it?”
“Very impressive. Unfortunately, I’m not evil like that. At all.”
“Me, either,” I say, chuckling. “Not at all.”
We share another smile and then sip our drinks again.
There’s another long moment of silence. Clearly, she’s still nervous around me. And, frankly, I’m still nervous around her. Clout chasers and fame vampires are easy. They do all the talking and flirting, while I sit back and do absolutely nothing but answer the same questions, time after time. But with Alessandra, I feel like I’ve got to keep the conversation going. And that’s not my strong suit when it comes to pretty girls.
Oh, I’ve got it! Astrology. I know nothing about it, but Kat loves talking about that shit. I can’t even count the number of times she’s gone on and on about it. Specifically, about me being a Taurus meaning such and such. “I just turned twenty-five at the end of May,” I say, out of nowhere. “That makes me a Taurus.”
“Oh. Cool.”
“You?”
“I’m a Leo. You’re into astrology?”
My cheeks blaze. Maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant conversation starter. “No. Not at all. You?”
“No. I only know the basics about my sign.”
“Same. All I know is I’m supposedly stubborn. That’s supposed to be my defining characteristic, actually. But I’m not stubborn at all.”
“Taurus is the Bull, right?”
I nod. “But if I were an animal, I’d say I’m more like a dog. A really happy dog who likes chasing tennis balls and taking naps.”
She giggles. And as she does, a swarm of butterflies releases into my belly. Damn, she’s got a cute laugh.
“I’d have thought you’d say your animal is the fish,” she says.
“Clever.”
“See what I did there?”
“I do. I think the fish is for Pisces, though.”
“I thought you said you don’t know anything about astrology,” she says.
“I don’t. But, come on. Pisces is the fish. That much, I know. Probably, I should have been a Pisces. I generally like going with the flow. That’s what Pisces do, right? Given their animal.”
She shrugs. “I’d assume so. Either way, can you imagine the perfection of being a dude called Fish who’s a Pisces?” She does a chef’s kiss with her fingers, making me laugh.
“Sadly, though, life isn’t always perfect like that. It turns out I’m a Goat called Fish who’s supposed to be stubborn as a bull, but isn’t.”
She giggles again. This time, even more heartily. “Wow, Fish. Who’s the doctor who delivered you? Doctor Dolittle?” She laughs uproariously at her own silly joke, and, of course, I laugh with her. Not so much at the joke itself, but at the way she’s laughing at it. And, damn, that swarm of butterflies in my belly is turning into an entire flock of seagulls as we laugh together.
I sip my beer. “So, what’s Leo’s animal? Lion, right?”
“Correct.”
“That makes you a lion-ess named Al-ess-andra. That’d be a sick lyric.”
She nods. “Yeah, it’s got a nice little internal rhyme to it.”
“It does.”
“I’m imagining a song kind of like ‘Buddy Holly’ by Weezer. Do you know that one?”
“Do I know it?” I slap my thigh energetically. “Dude! I love Weezer!”
“So do I! They can do no wrong in my book!”
“Same!”
And that’s it. We’re off to the races, finally, babbling nonstop, without another awkward silence, about our favorite Weezer songs. From there, we talk enthusiastically about how much we both love internal rhymes in lyrics, which leads us to a discussion of the rap and hip-hop artists we revere the most for their amazing word play and internal rhymes. And, through it all, it becomes starkly clear to me this is the way to lure this shy girl out of her shell on a rocket. Get her to talk about music, dummy! How did I not