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She crosses her legs and faces me, her glass of white wine in her hand on the bar. “You recovered from all the excitement?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, a little harsher than I mean to.
“Easy, tiger. I come in peace.”
A Trojan horse, more like.
“I thought I’d stick around for a few days,” she says. “I have some time off, and I’ve just been hanging out with my family.”
I don’t respond.
“Owen. Come on. I don’t want things to be, you know, weird between us.”
I scoff, and stare straight ahead.
“It was a long time ago.” She puts her hand on my arm.
I look at her hand, look at her, and she pulls it away.
“So that’s how it is, huh?” she asks.
I shrug.
She flips her hair off her shoulders. “I’ve moved on. You’ve moved on. Seems like you’ve got a great life now.”
I half nod. “Yep.”
There’s a moment of silence, and I almost stand and make my way to the door. I don’t need Lindsay speculating on my life.
“Are you. . .dating anyone?”
I close my eyes and shake my head.
“What? I can’t have a conversation with. . .”
I turn to her, head cocked.
“Are we really going to do this?”
“It’s a perfectly normal question,” she says.
“Not from you it’s not.”
Another lull.
“I’m actually surprised you and Emmy aren’t together yet.” She takes a drink.
That strikes me as odd.
“Emmy?” I frown. “Why would you think. . .?”
“Come on, Owen,” she says. “Her crush on you? For like, years? You can’t tell me it was one-sided.”
I suddenly get defensive of Emmy.
“What in the world are you talking about?”
She scoffs. “It was pretty obvious.”
