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If she was willing to talk to me.
Nope. Not going there. I'm not here to dwell on past mistakes. I'm here to enjoy the fresh air and the view. "You come here a lot."
"No. Haven't been in forever."
"You don't bring women here for a picnic and a fuck?"
His lips curl into a smile. "I don't usually leave the apartment."
"Ah."
"Ah?" He arches a brow. Copies my tone. "How does that make you feel, Ms. Avery?"
"That was not a shrink ah."
He nods.
"Maybe a little."
He holds his hands close together then pulls them apart in the a lot gesture.
"When's the last time you went on an actual date?"
"Depends on the definition."
"Like this."
"We don't do dates."
We don't. That's a rule. But we're here. And this is clearly a date. Or… Well… "You're going to make me come. That makes this a hookup."
He smiles and shakes his head whatever you want to tell yourself. "It's been a while."
"Just swiping right?"
"You know dating apps?"
"I know of them."
"You dumped your ex at Christmas?"
"Yeah."
"So, it's been four months."
"About that." Have I really been sober for almost four months? And single for longer? It's hard to believe. The last three years are one blur of shitty jobs, bad friends, and Ross, all dulled by the magic of opiates and booze.
"You squeeze in a lot of rebound sex?"
The bounciness in his voice pulls me back to the moment.
"Iris?"
"Oh. No. You… um… you were the first."
"Shit, really?"
I nod. "I was never the type to sleep around."
