“Knock, knock,” Nick said through the open french doors of my office.
Startled, I banged my knee on the desk. “Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch! Come in!”
Nick opened the screen door and closed it behind him. “You okay?”
I nodded, rubbing my knee, avoiding eye contact as planned. “Yeah. Fine. I just jammed my knee into the desk. No big deal. What’s a little collision with a solid wood desk that weighs three hundred pounds?”
“How long have you been accident prone?”
“How long have I known you?”
He grinned. “That was my fault?”
“You’re the easy blame—let’s go with that.” I stuck my head under the desk like I had dropped something and was looking for it.
“And I suppose it was my fault when you fell off the bike in the—”
“No, no, no, no, no.” From below the desk, I shook my finger at him. “The first rule about the gym is never talk about the gym. Ever.”
“Of course. Well, can you at least tell me how your wrist is? I noticed you haven’t been wearing the brace the last couple of days. I hope that’s a good sign.”
“It is, thank you for asking. How can I help you?” I pretended to organize files in my file cabinet with my back to him, so I didn’t have to look at him.
“Well, I feel kind of funny asking, but . . .”
Silence.
Why didn’t Nick finish his sentence?
Don’t turn around. Wait it out.
More silence.
What the heck was going on with Nick behind me?
The silence was too awkward.
I had to speak. “Did you pass out?”
“I’m here.”
I kept my head down. “And why haven’t you finished your sentence?” I pretended to shuffle more things around in the cabinet.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not!”
Okay, I didn’t have to be so adamant. I think I overdid it there.
“Then look at me,” Nick said.
This man was too smart for his own good and it was pissing me off.
I stopped fidgeting with the files and slowly turned around, locking gazes with him, but trying not to think of the dream. “See? I’m looking at you. You were saying?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Why are you acting weird? Is this about last night?”
“What happened last night?”
