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“Aren’t I?” Barry let out a heavy exhale. “If he hadn’t had me to raise alone, he wouldn’t have had to steal to make ends meet.”
“Am I responsible for my dad leaving us because he couldn’t hack being a father?” Annoyed, I hooked my hands on my hips. “My mother for being weak and doing drugs because being a single parent for Rachel and me was too much for her?”
“No.” A grin Barry seemed to be trying to contain played on his lips.
“Right.” Satisfied, I nodded. I’d made my case.
“Still as spirited as I remember.”
Was I? I tilted my head. It was like a switch had been thrown. Around Barry, my emotions weren’t so muted anymore.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I thought a lot about you over the years.” His gaze drifted and his voice deepened. “You really shouldn’t be walking around in only that crop top and bicycle shorts without a jacket on.”
I stomped my foot, and my tits jiggled. “I have a jacket. I took it off to exercise and left it in a cubby. You carried me right past it when you brought me here.”
“You really shouldn’t be out in public at all wearing clothes like that.”
“Clothes like what?” I asked, frowning.
Barry’s gaze narrowed. “You know how you look in that clingy stuff.”
“Like someone intending to exercise?” I fired back.
“Like a woman who has curves a man wants to spend twenty-four hours exploring.”
“Oh.” My lips parted. I wasn’t expecting that answer.
“Another something that hasn’t changed.” He shook his head.
Now his hair wasn’t a curtain ... it was a waterfall of black and copper. I wanted to run my hands beneath it, feel it cascading against my skin. Was it as soft as it looked?
“Huh?” I blinked, coming back after I’d lost my train of thought, imagining his hair gliding over other areas.
“You’re still clueless how utterly irresistible you are to the opposite sex.”
“I’m not irresistible.”
“Oh yeah you are,” he said while his gaze traveled the length of me. It almost seemed as if he was imagining exploring me. “And nowadays, I probably should mentionallthe sexes finding you irresistible.” His gaze rose, his eyes narrowing as they locked on mine. “But I don’t think you swing more than one way, do you?”
“No.” My cheeks warmed.
The truth was, I didn’t swing any way. I couldn’t even touch myself anymore. Nothing. No passion beyond my work. No sexual desire of any sort after Martin.
“I should get back,” I said quickly. “Finish exercising. Go to work.”
“You were on that thing for thirty minutes already.”
“Sometimes I go longer,” I muttered, dropping my gaze.
“Why?” His intensity nudged me. “Thirty minutes of cardio is plenty.”
No, it wasn’t. Not when it was the only real physical outlet you had.
His voice turned cajoling. “Let me make you breakfast.”
Barry came closer, his large feet making short work of the distance between us. I followed his long, long legs upward. He wore basketball-length shorts again today, like the last time I’d seen him, back when I didn’t know who he was. This pair was charcoal gray.
