“You were staring at us.”
“I was staring atyou.” The second the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted it.
“You wereeye-fuckingme.”
Her cheeks immediately heated.
Asshole.
Addison cocked her head, smirking. “I believe that was a mutual exchange.”
His lips twitched slightly. “Don’t think your man would appreciate that.”
“I don’t have a man.”
“Why not?”
She wasn’t about to answer that. If he was going to spend this time taunting her,I’m done.
She straightened in her seat, glancing up at the clock over the bar. The perfect getaway.
“My break is over.” She grabbed the arms of the chair and started to rise.
He pointed to the chair. “I’ll let you know when it’s over.”
Addison slowly sat again.
“Answer the question.”
He took a deep drag from his cigarette and squinted with the smoke billowing around his face.
“In case you’ve missed it, a heart transplant is kind of a big deal. I’ve had a lot going on in the last few years.”
His gaze hardened. “I didn’t miss anything.”
Dammit!Poor choice in wording to even suggest anything about the heart.
“I haven’t dated much since my surgery.” She shrugged. “I’ve got bigger things on my mind.”
“Like reaching out to Cleo?”
“I’m sure Cleo explained how this all works. She had to sign a consent form in order for me to reach out to her. I was given her info, but she had none of mine.”
There was no softness coming from Cross. No encouragement to go on with her story. But she did anyway. If he was still listening, she owed it to him to share.
“I lost track of how many times I rewrote that first letter to Cleo. Nothing sounded appreciative enough. And I didn’t want to get it wrong.” Her chest tightened remembering the stress she’d been under. She needed it to be perfect. “After almost a month, I figured if I didn’t get it right at that point, I never would so I mailed it. And ten days later she wrote me back.”
“Why did it matter?”
She jerked her gaze. What kind of question was that?
“How could it not?” she blurted.
“He was a stranger.”
“Exactly! I knew nothing about him except his age, and he was a male. That was it. It was all they could give me.” She paused, lowering her voice. “I remember thinking how weird that was because” —she cleared the knot in her throat— “Here was someone who was the source of my own survival. And I didn’t know a thing about him. Not what he looks like, what his voice sounds like. What his favorite thing to do is or what food he can’t stand. I knew nothing.”
“But you wanted to?” His voice was softer than she’d expected.
