Page 109 of His Surrender

“I’m sending out résumés.”

The words have barely left my mouth before I notice his fingers have stopped moving across his keyboard. His shoulders stiffen ever so slightly.

When I look over, he’s already forced a smile back onto his face.

“Oh?” he says with a clipped edge to his voice.

“I’ve been slacking.” I click into another application. “There aren’t many openings right now, but I figure I should keep looking.”

“Right,” he says casually … but it feels too casual.

My stomach twists. Neither of us says anything for a while. The only sounds in the room are keyboards clicking and the faint hum of the dishwasher finishing its cycle in the kitchen.

Every so often, our feet find each other beneath the throw blanket draped across our legs.

Neither of us moves away.

I upload my résumé for what feels like the hundredth time before sighing at another application asking me to manually type everything I already attached.

“Who designed these websites?” I mutter.

Dean chuckles quietly. “Someone who clearly hates people.”

“I’ve already uploaded my résumé.”

“I know.”

“So, why do I have to type every single job I’ve ever had?”

He looks over. “Character building.”

I groan dramatically. “I don’t want character.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve got plenty.”

He laughs under his breath before returning to his emails.

Thirty minutes pass. I finally finish another application when I hear Dean’s laptop snap shut.

I look over to find him staring at me. He places it on the coffee table.

“What?” I ask when he still keeps his eyes focused on me.

Instead of answering, he reaches over and gently closes my laptop too.

“Dean …”

“No more résumés.”

“I have two more bookmarked,” I say in protest.

“They’ll still be there tomorrow.”

I laugh. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”