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Dr. Merino gestured behind him. “I put your bike under the staircase. Hope that's all right."
In one hand, he clutched a brown paper bag. He wore the same clothes from earlier. The standard dark slacks and a light pink button-down that complemented the swooping scar on his collarbone.
Kenna stepped aside. “Would you like to come in for a bit?"
He looked past her into the apartment.
“What about Alex?"
“She's visiting her family in Phoenix."
She knew she couldn't trust him, not completely, and here she was inviting him into her place and brewing him decaffeinated tea. Dr. Merino gave an imperceptible nod and came inside.
Adrenaline ricocheted through her chest. She'd dumped herself into open water with a great white. No cage.
“Have you eaten?" he asked, setting the brown bag on the counter as if he lived there.
Kenna wanted to lose herself in his sweetness, to fully surrender to his charm, and she'd come dangerously close in his station wagon. Logic had not abandoned her.
“I haven't, actually." She took a seat at the island but he remained standing. A thank you didn't come naturally in this situation. She didn't force it. “There's tea. It's decaf."
He mumbled his thanks and made himself a mug.
Neither of them spoke as the spoon clanked and clinked in its rotations. At the office they had built a natural rapport, but unknown variables and unresolved romantic tension reigned supreme in the new setting.
Dr. Merino stood directly opposite her on the other side of the counter, hunched over with arms braced on the faux epoxy granite. He watched a little too intently as she took the first bite of the saucy, bright green curry.
“Where were you?" Kenna did not care if the question echoed that of a suspicious wife.
It was her home. He would play by her rules.
His lips clamped together before they met the mug. “Cool it, Velma. I had dinner with some friends."
“Youhave friends?"
“There's a lot you don't know about me, a lot we don’t know about each other, for that matter." Dr. Merino brandished a bemused smile, the parenthetical lines on either side of his mouth deepening. “Where are you from, anyway?"
“You should know. You raided my file. I’m surprised you don’t know the name of my first pet and my Social Security number.” Heat rushed to her cheeks. He may have been in her apartment but he was still her mentor and therefore deserved a modicum of respect. “Sorry."
“That's alright. I deserved it. Your file listed your high school, but no location.”
“Syracuse. I'm from Syracuse.”
He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows. Kenna distracted herself by identifying the types of vegetables in the curry lest she stare at his exposed forearms.
“As in New York?"
“That’d be the one."
“What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"
She was supposed to spend spring break poring over her notes on Dr. Merino and now they were having what seemed to be a heart-to-heart in her kitchen.
Maybe logichadabandoned her.
“Same reason everyone moves far, far away for college, to get away from my family. Things were pretty stressful at home. I was responsible for my siblings most of the time and I think they saw me as a third parent instead of a sister.” Kenna swallowed the guilt creeping along her throat while the faces she hadn’t seen in years flashed through her mind. “What about you? Was Los Angeles far from home?”
Google had already informed her that he hailed from Eugene. She also knew that, funnily enough, his high school mascot had been the Fighting Irish.
