She pressed her lips together—hard—like she was physically trying to stop the smile and the whimper from forming.
Neither listened.
"You're insufferable," she whispered.
"I've heard that twice today, actually. I'm collecting the full set."
"From who? Your other women?"
"Jealousy and sarcasm? In the same car ride? Vanessa... I'm flattered."
"I'm not jealous!"
"You brought up my other women unprompted. That's textbook."
She turned away from me—toward the window—but I could see the reflection of her smile in the glass. Wide now. Unguarded. A smile she probably hadn't let herself have in a very long time.
The car drove itself through the LA afternoon. A comfortable silence settled between us—
"She drew you, by the way," Vanessa said after a while, still facing the window. "Rory. Last night. Before bed."
"Drew me?"
"With crayons. You're very tall in the picture. And you have purple hair for some reason."
"Purple's a strong choice. I respect that."
