Until May (Until Her/Him #11)(11)

“So you only have one sibling?”

“Yeah,” he says after a moment, but the way he says it makes me think that’s not the full truth, and I drop my eyes from his.

“So tell me about this Mike guy you used to know.”

“What?” My eyes fly up, and his head tips to the side.

“The guy you said looks like me. Is he your ex?”

“No.” I roll my lips together, trying to find a way out of this conversation, when just few minutes ago I was trying to build up the courage to bring it up.

“If he’s not your ex, who is he?” He frowns.

“A guy I met on a dating app,” I admit while studying him, trying to see if there’s any type of recognition in his expression. There’s not, not even a flicker. Then again, there wasn’t even a hint earlier today when I questioned him either.

“And he looked like me?” He raises a brow, and I let out a breath.

“He was you,” I admit, tugging my hand from his and looking back out at the water to hide how humiliated I am. “That, or he was using your photos.”

“I’ve never been on a dating app in my life, doll.”

Of course he hadn’t. I mean, a guy who looks like him wouldn’t need a dating app to find a woman willing to date him. He could just walk up to any woman, ask them out and they’d swoon right into his waiting arms.

“Right,” I mutter, my cheeks so hot they feel like they are on fire.

“So you met a guy who looked like me on a dating app?”

“I did. I talked to him every day for a few weeks and made plans to meet up with him, but he stood me up.” I let out a hollow laugh. “The night that happened, my sister took one of the photos he was using on the app and did some kind of photo search. She found out who the guy in the picture actually was.” I glance over at him. “So imagine my surprise when I came face-to-face with you right after I pulled that kid out of the water.”

I shake my head, thinking it all still seems too strange to believe. I also now realize I could have saved myself a lot of trouble if April had done that image search sooner.

“Jesus.”

“Yep,” I agree, and silence fills the space between us, along with a heaviness that wasn’t here before.

“Did you think I was him?” he asks while touching the tips of his fingers to mine that are resting in the sand at my side. “That I was the guy, Mike, when we first met?”

“Wouldn’t you?” I look over at him. “From what my sister found out, you’re some hot-shot soccer player living in London. So what were the odds that you’d be there?”

“If it were me you were talking to, doll, I wouldn’t have stood you up.” His eyes roam over my face, and I bite my bottom lip, then clear my throat and look away. It’s weird sitting next to him, having this conversation. Really, this whole thing is weird, like some kind of dream you know you’ll wake up from and then wonder what it all means. “Did you eat dinner yet?”

“No,” I respond without thinking, the question catching me off guard because it’s so off topic.

“Good.” I watch him stand and brush the sand from his pants before he holds out his hand toward me. I look at it, then him, and when I don’t take it, he shakes his head, leans down, and pulls me up to stand. “Let’s go eat, and while we do that, you can tell me all the stuff you and that catfish spoke about.”

“That’s not happening,” I deny, looking up at him as he towers over me.

“He was pretending to be me. I’m curious what he told you and what you two spoke about.”

“Again, that’s not happening.” I mean, really looking back, Mike and I didn’t talk about anything of importance. Our conversations were more about our jobs and just everyday life with a heavy dose of flirting. Honestly, I feel like even more of an idiot when I think about it now, because it was all so very superficial.

“All right, then we’ll talk about other stuff.” His fingers brush against mine, sending a tingle up my arm as we walk toward the beach house the girls and I have been sharing. “You can start off by telling me what your favorite kind of food is.”

“Snacks.” I glance up at him and smile when he chuckles.

“That’s not a meal, doll.”

“Cheese, meat, crackers, and fruit on a giant platter is an entire meal.”

“Maybe I should say that I’m not sure I can find anywhere that will deliver that tonight.” We take the stairs up to the deck side by side.

“Really, I’m good with anything you want.” I stop to grab my book off the chair I was sitting on before I go to the sliding door and open it. When he steps back for me to go inside before him, I do, then walk to the kitchen and place my book on the counter.

“I noticed you have a lot of books at your house.” He picks up the one I just set down and flips it over to look at the cover, which just has a woman in a sheer dress floating through the water. “Do you read a lot?”

“I do.” I grab the stack of menus we’ve collected since we’ve been here and hand them over to him while taking my book back. “Do you like to read?”

“I haven’t read since I was in school, and that was many years ago.”

“That’s very sad.”