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I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "That too."
"You could have texted," she said bitterly. "I sat there for nearly an hour. I'm pretty sure everyone knew I got stood up. The barista certainly did."
Now I felt like an absolute asshole. "I guess I could have, but it wouldn't have been a clean break then."
"You call this clean?" she asked. Her eyes shone.
I wanted to kiss away the tears as they slid down her cheeks.
Instead, I took a step away, to the coffee pot. I stopped short of pouring a cup. Boiling hot water might be a bad idea right now.
"I never intended to hurt you," I said. "Just the opposite. Did you think about what may happen if you're seen in public with me? Jerks like Harvey would be all over that like… like flies on shit."
"You're comparing me to shit now?" She seemed very unimpressed with that.
"No, I was comparing myself to it," I replied. "I'm sure you'd agree it's accurate."
"Well, actually…" She shook her head. "I don't think you're a shit, but you did a crappy thing. I'm a big girl, I can deal with Harvey Danbury seeing us having coffee together."
"Yeah? What if it got worse?" I asked persistently. "He might start to follow you around. Dig through your rubbish. Stalk you online. None of that is as fun as it sounds."
"It doesn't sound fun at all," she said. "But he'd soon get bored. I'm not at all interesting."
She was so wrong on that count. So very, very wrong. I've never met anyone more interesting. She was compelling. I wanted to lose myself in those eyes of hers.
If I do, don't send a search party. I don't want to be found.
Only, I couldn't do it. I had to force myself to look away before I did something dumb. Okay, somethingelsedumb. The list was getting pretty long at this point.
"Fine." I shrugged. "I could have sent a text. So could you though. You didn't ask where I was, or why I wasn't there."
Her mouth moved but nothing came out for a moment.
Point to me. Funny, it didn't feel like a win.
"I shouldn't have to," she said after a moment. "I was there, waiting. The stander-upper should do the calling or texting."
"There are rules for stuff like that?" I asked. Wait—was stander-upper even a thing? It was now I guessed.
"Of course there are," she said. "There are rules for just about everything. Most of them come back to rule one."
"Which is?" Did I want to know?
"Don't be a dick," she said dryly.
"Ah." I nodded. "That's a good rule." I scratched my head. "I guess I broke that, huh?"
"Yep," she said mercilessly.
"Is this where I say I'll make it up to you, and invite you to next Saturday's game?" I asked.
That really went against the whole concept of clean break. Or any kind of break.
"I don't know, should you?" she asked. Her expression confused me. She seemed hopeful. What was she hoping for though? That I would ask, or that I'd tell her I was joking.
My heart thumped in my chest at the idea she mightwantto go. I wanted her to go, but for her own good, she really shouldn't. The best place she could be was away from me.
"You ask Kris," I said, my eyes everywhere but on her. "You wanted him back. This might be just the time to make a start on that. He likes a good game, once in a while."
