I stack the cards and set them on the end table, then rise. “Come on, sleepwalker, I’ll help you upstairs.” I reach for her and she looks up at me, her eyelids heavy. She lets me take her hand and pull her up, but she says nothing as we start for the stairs. I hear her yawn again, though.
“When will I meet your girlfriend?” she asks. “Actually, when will Jean and Nessa meet her? They don’t seem to know she exists.”
Girlfriend? I’ve been single for five or so years. I do the maths. No, six years, now. Blair walked out on me on a rare sunny day in the beginning of August. I’ll never forget it, because it was a week before her daughter’s birthday. She never let me give Liv her gift. It’s still in my closet. Pathetic, eh? I lose my girlfriend and her daughter all at once, and I’m still hanging on to the gift she never let me send.
Believe me, I tried. It was harder losing Liv than losing Blair. In some ways, the immediate lack of contact made me so angry, it helped me get over Blair faster than I ever could have on my own.
Unless one of them told Callie that Blair was coming home for Christmas, I don’t know what she could be referring to right now.
“I’m sorry my family acted like that,” I say.
“It’s fine. I’m flattered. Maybe if you tell them you have a girlfriend, it won’t be so awkward for the next girl.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
She stops at the top of the stairs and swivels quickly, poking me in the chest. “I knew it!”
“What are you on about?”
“Last night. When I crossed the line and asked why you’re single, which I definitely shouldn’t have, and you said?—”
“Aye.” I circle her pointy finger and drag it away from my chest. “Right enough. I didn’t want to answer.”
“Rightfully so. I know better than to ask questions like that. Sorry.”
“It’s no bother.”
“That’s not a healthy response.” Her brown eyes bore down into me. The dimness of the stairwell casts shadows over them, making it easier to lose myself. “The correct thing would be to tell me you forgive me.”
“I forgive you,” I say.
“Well, now I don’t believe you.”
Apparently, I’m still holding her hand, so I give it a little squeeze and frame my face into a wide smile as I pull my hand free. “I really do forgive you. As far as why I’m single…you know, there’s no simple answer to that question.”
She rolls her eyes. “Is thereever?”
“I suppose not.” I wait for her to turn and keep walking, since there’s another flight of stairs until we reach the attic, but she doesn’t move.
“In my defense, I was extra curious because you’re clearly a catch. Where I’m from, if I met a guy like you at a bar, I’d assume you were hung up on your ex or extremely picky. Given how clean your house is and howselectiveyou can be, I’m going to take a wild leap here and assume?—”
“You’re wrong, Callie. It’s neither of those things.”
“Hm.” She chews on her bottom lip, scanning my face.
I have to actively work to avoid looking at her mouth while she does this, because we’re two adults who are attracted to each other—I feel that’s a safe assumption after she tried to kiss me—alone in a house together extremely late at night. Bad decisions are made in situations like this, but if I don’t look at herlips, maybe I can hold strong. I’ll pretend there’s an impenetrable forcefield between us. So long as I don’t touch her, I won’t do anything foolish.
But she’s wrong. I’m not hung up on Blair, and I’m not extremely picky. Blair broke something inside me when she ripped her daughter out of my life with no warning, and I’ve spent the last several years rebuilding my thoughts in a healthier way.
There’s no short answer for that though, is there?
Callie gives an exaggerated shrug. “It’s not relevant to me anyway.”
“Guess not.”
“I’ll just go to bed now.”
“Probably a good idea.”
