The Real(19)

Abbie’s Mac: Delicious. And I must compliment you on your mug of choice today. It’s not every day a man can admit that Everything’s a Dildo if You’re Brave Enough.

He let out a sharp laugh as I lifted my fingers, pressed them to my lips, and twisted them his way.

Did I just blow him a kiss?

I don’t know why I did it. He stiffened and his eyes flared as he watched it happen. His fingers moved slowly over his keys while I waited with blood pounding in my ears.

Cameron’s Mac: Did you just get embarrassed? Cute.

Abbie’s Mac: Can we not talk about it?

Cameron’s Mac: Well, I’m not accepting that as a first kiss. And, Abbie, there will be a first kiss.

Emerald eyes met mine while goosebumps covered me.

Abbie’s Mac: I want that too.

Cameron’s Mac: This experiment of yours has me thinking like a teenager again.

I gave him a deep frown.

Cameron’s Mac: Hear me out before you start picturing porno flicks and sticky socks in my laundry hamper. I’m talking about the stuff in between. I really think about you. I wonder what you’re doing because I can’t text you to ask. I wonder what you’ll think or what you’ll say about something I’m reading. It’s like I crave your opinion now and these conversations. Things can get so easily predictable when you first meet someone and all you are is mostly physical.

I wanted to pry for more, but I didn’t. Those were the rules. My rules.

Abbie’s Mac: How old are you?

Cameron’s Mac: Thirty-four.

Abbie’s Mac: I can’t believe I hadn’t asked that before. Aren’t you going to ask me?

Cameron’s Mac: Without sounding like a prick, I don’t care. I know you have a thing for numbers, but whatever yours is, is fine with me. All I really want to know is if you want to have another cup of coffee with me?

The sincerity in his eyes showed me he meant every word.

I nodded.





“Mrs. Zingaro, I’m really late,” I said as she greeted me just as I was shutting my door.

“Okay, honey, I was just coming up to offer some of my ziti. I know how much you love it. I’ll put some aside for you.” Guilt instantly wracked me as she looked me over. I’d been spending less and less time with her over the last month. “And for the hundredth time, please call me Jenny. You look snazzy. Did you get a new fella?”

“I think so,” I answered.

“Good for you, Abigail.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just don’t want to be late.”

“I understand. I’ve taken up a lot of your time,” she said softly before she perked up. “I hope this one sticks.”

“You and me both.”

She lingered a moment longer. It was obvious she’d recently dyed her silver hair; her hairline was stained purple. I’d been the one to help her with it the last few times she’d colored it. This time, she hadn’t even asked.

“Jenny, I really have to run. I’ll come by and grab that ziti on my way home.”

“Don’t you worry. It will be waiting when you’re ready.” She carefully made her way down the steps as I watched her struggle with her footing. I didn’t know how much longer she would be able to self-sustain. I would have to talk to her son about it in the near future. The thought of her leaving broke my heart. But instead of offering my company and making a promise for later, I kept my mouth shut. Miss Fix-It had a date.




Minutes later, after giving Bennie his twenty outside the café, I flew past Cameron with my borrowed I Wish I Were Felicia. She’s Always Going Somewhere mug and opened my Mac.

Abbie’s Mac: Hi. Sorry I’m late. I got cornered by my tenant again.

He’d been frowning at his screen while I got comfortable. His lips twitched with a small smile as he read my message then looked over at me.

Cameron’s Mac: What did you have to pretend to fix this time?

Abbie’s Mac: Nothing. Turns out she just wanted to feed me, and I was witchy to her before she even offered it. I’ve been spending a lot of time with her the past year and I’ve been neglecting her lately. I feel like shit. But I have to stop before she asks me to join her knitting circle, ya know?

Cameron’s Mac: I’m sure she understands. And I have to say, I’m fond of you for taking care of her like that. It’s a good thing you care.

Though it was warmer today, he was bundled up in a hoodie and wearing a ball cap which was a first. He looked exhausted and for the first time ever, thrown together. Something was . . . off.

Abbie’s Mac: Things looked serious over there when I got here. Everything okay? Are you getting sick?

He gave me a mustered wink as he did a slow perusal of me from the tip of my ankle boots to the top of my head. I didn’t know how he did it with a look alone, but by the time he was done, I felt worshiped. We’d been having coffee every day for the last week and I had to admit I was growing tired of my own rules.

Cameron’s Mac: And now you’re worried about me? Everything’s fine, nothing a little sleep can’t fix. Besides, there’s a lot more I’m interested in going on over there.

Abbie’s Mac: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Cameron’s Mac: As you should. Fuck, you’re beautiful.