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“I like him. But I liked Savage too and we saw how that went. I just don’t want Walker to get hurt because I have the emotional bandwidth of a raisin.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Kinda,” she said. “I mean, I told him I was getting over someone and didn’t want Walker to become wreckage in my quest to move on. He appreciated that. He’s not pressuring me for anything, but he still calls, and he still makes plans, and he still feeds me, so I’ll see where it goes.”
“Hmm.”
She frowned. “What does hmm mean?”
“Not sure you want to hear it,” I said.
“Now you have to tell me.”
“I think Walker is playing the long game.”
“No. No way.” She shook her head. “He can’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because we just met.”
“Uh huh.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just because you married Bones like five minutes after you started dating—and you don’t seem freaked out, by the way—doesn’t mean the rest of us operate on that timeline.”
“Let’s look at the facts,” I said. “I saw you guys lock eyes when you met, so…”
“I don’t believe in insta-love.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “But you told him you were hung up on someone else and instead of walking away, he decided to stick around and be what you needed.”
“Lots of men would do that. For the promise of easy sex? Please.”
“But you haven’t said you’ve slept with him yet.”
“I implied it.”
“No, you purposefully said you did dirty stuff, but that’s a blanket statement of avoidance, not an of course, or something that confirmed it.”
“That bump to the head has you addled,” she griped. “Speaking of which, it’s not gonna scar is it?”
“Don’t know. I’m not sure who stitched me up, I was unconscious. It could’ve been anyone from a first-year intern to a plastic surgeon. But if it does scar, I’ll look like a pirate and I can enter my swashbuckling fashion era.”
“I’m here for that.”
“Nice try changing the subject.” I grinned. “You care about Walker’s feelings. I can’t remember the last time that happened.”
“It happened with the guy before Walker,” she said. “Savage.”
“No, it didn’t. You and Savage were like two wrecking balls, swinging at each other. You hit a few times before realizing it would end in nothing but destruction for you both.”
“I didn’t tell you much about my time with Savage,” she said.
“You never volunteered,” I pointed out.
“He’s like chasing a high,” she said quietly. “And when you get it, you get it for a few hours and then it all wears off and you feel worse. I had to go cold turkey if I had any chance of surviving him.”
“Maybe he’s not surviving you, you ever think of that?”
