Repeat(14)

“You were just, what?”

I sigh. “Honestly, it’s hard to think of an answer that won’t piss you off.”

His lips roll in, pressed together as if he’s holding in laughter. With the sunglasses on, I can’t see his eyes to confirm this, however.

“Why were you texting me when you were out with someone else anyway?” I ask. “Shouldn’t I be the last person you’d be thinking about under the circumstances?”

The man just grunts. Any mirth is now long gone.

“Not that I was surprised you were out with someone. I mean, you’re very attractive. Like, jaw-droppingly so. I’ve never even remotely seen anyone as . . .” I just shrug. There are no sufficient words to describe his innate hotness. His raw masculine appeal. Where is a thesaurus when you need one?

“Clem,” he grits out.

“Yes?”

Apparently complimenting him is a bad idea, since he’s turned his face away. His body once again radiates pissed off. The seemingly go-to setting when I’m around.

Shit. “Oh, okay. I’m going to stop talking now.”

“Good idea,” he says.

All right, so maybe I shouldn’t have pressed the question. Or mentioned anyone’s attractiveness. In a rare display of wisdom, I keep my mouth shut and give Gordon some pats. At least he’s still happy I’m here.

We move aside for a couple pushing a stroller, the baby fast asleep. The two women don’t look much older than me. I can’t imagine having a child yet. One with Ed’s smile and my eyes, maybe. God, what am I doing? The situation is complicated enough without imaginary infants intruding.

“Did you ever get around to choosing a favorite color?” he asks eventually.

“Undecided. I mean, I like blue in general. But royal blue is a hard no.”

He snorts. “Yeah. You were the same about purple. Violet was fine, but the hate was strong for burgundy and maroon.”

Gordon doesn’t tug on the leash. Instead, he trots alongside me, sniffing trees and fences, pausing occasionally to mark his territory. The sun hangs low, the world lit a brilliant gold. I watch the ground, keeping my eyes diverted from the glare. My sunglasses must have been taken in the robbery. Next shopping trip, I’ll have to replace them.

“Still,” he says. “You have it narrowed down to blue. Good work.”

“Are you patronizing me?”

“Never.”

I’m not sure about that. “Why is it whenever you talk about me, I always sound so high maintenance?”

“Because you are, Clem. Trust me, I’ve dated enough women to know the difference.” His brows draw in all thoughtful like. “You’re not a take-it-easy, whatever-comes-is-fine kind of girl. Not saying you don’t know how to relax, but that’s not your normal setting. You’re a little high strung, which requires some extra care, might as well embrace the fact.”

“Hmm. I think your bias is showing.”

This time, he actually does smile. So dreamy. Full-blown tingles in the pants area.

I turn away. It’s safer not to look. “Have you ever been friends with an ex before? And yes, I know we’re not friends, that you’re just being kind, et cetera.”

“I don’t know what the hell we are,” he says, sounding weary. “But yes, I’ve been friends with exes before. Kind of depends on the breakup, though.”

I nod, turning over his words in my mind.

“When it’s a drift apart or you’re just not right for each other, then it’s no big deal to maybe keep in touch. But when it’s Godzilla leveling Tokyo, like we were . . . not a whole lot left to build anything on. Sure as hell no trust in either direction.”

While I don’t get the reference, the general meaning is loud and clear. “Right. Though you did come and help me at the hospital.”

“Don’t read too much into that,” he says. “Frances only called me because she had no other options, and I was hardly going to leave you there on your own for hours on end. No matter what shit went down between us.”

“It was still kind of you, and I wasn’t particularly nice to you at the time. Sorry about that.”

I’m pretty sure behind the sunglasses he’s giving me side eyes. “Whatever.”

We walk a block in silence, Gordon doing his happy doggy thing. The quiet between Ed and me is strangely peaceful as opposed to awkward. An occasional car zips past and a few people are out and about enjoying their weekend. One man is in his small front garden, planting some daisies. That he does this wearing white long johns is a little different.

“I’ve never actually seen him dressed,” whispers Ed once we’re a suitable distance past. “Only ever wearing those thermals.”

“Have to admire his dedication to comfort.”

“True.”

“Interesting neighborhood,” I say.

“You picked it.”

“I did?”

Ed nods. “I was sharing an apartment with friends on the other side of the city and your rental was up. Figured we might as well move in together.”

“I figured or you figured?”

“We both figured. It was mutual.”

“Okay.”

“You thought with my hours it would be better if we were close to the shop. We looked around for a while, lucked out and found this place.”