“Then why was it a bad thing if I wore it?”
“It wasn’t a bad thing.”
“Then it must have looked terrible.”
“You looked fucking beautiful.”
I froze.
So did Josh. Almost like he wasn’t expecting those words to come out of his mouth.
I know I wasn’t.
“What?” The word left me on a whisper.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You looked beautiful,” he repeated, his voice a lot softer this time. Same with his gaze. It no longer held the edge it had a moment ago, but it was just as intense.
Intense and scary.
I swallowed and looked down at my bare feet. My nail polish had chipped on my big toe, and it was easier to focus on that than what Josh had just told me.
He thought I’d looked beautiful.
“Thank you.”
“I should go.”
We both spoke at the same time, neither of us looking at the other. Whatever it was that’d just happened had put in a kink in our easy friendship, even if I didn’t know what that meant for now.
“I should go,” Josh repeated, scrubbing his hand across the stubble that coated his jaw. “Work, you know.”
“Uh-huh. Um, you want me to call you a cab?”
He shook his head. “I’ll walk. It’s not far.”
“Are you sure?”
He gave me a tight smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll come get my truck in the morning.”
“Okay.”
He offered another smile before he turned, running his hand through his hair. “Kinsley? I am sorry about your date tonight.”
I stared after him for a moment. The lack of sincerity in his voice astounded me, but I just didn’t know why. He’d already expressed that sentiment once or twice this evening, and I’d genuinely thought he was sorry.
So why wasn’t he now?
The front door opened, and I rushed after him.
“Josh.”
He stilled in the doorway. “What?”
Swallowing, I asked, “Are you really sorry? That my date was terrible?”
He didn’t move for a long, agonizing moment. Then he slowly turned his head so he was looking over his shoulder. His gaze caught mine, a storm swirling in his eyes.
And he said one word.
“No.”
Then, before I could say another word, he was gone.
My front door clicked shut. It was such a gentle sound, yet it seemed to echo through my hallway.
What the hell did that mean?
***
JOSH: I have another guy for you.
I stared at my phone. Twelve hours ago, he’d basically said he was happy my date had gone badly and that I was beautiful, and now…
Well, now, it was like none of that had ever happened.
If we’d both been super drunk, I’d have written it off as a slip of the tongue. But we weren’t. Sure, I’d been solidly on the other side of tipsy when I’d gone to bed after I’d polished off the rest of the wine, but Josh had been nowhere near that.
Judging by the hole he’d dug himself just before he’d said those things, he’d been trying not to say them.
I had no idea what any of it meant and, honestly, it was easier to ignore it today.
I was slightly hungover and eating my body weight in salted chips.
I shoved some chips into my mouth and brushed the crumbs off my fingers on my jeans, then grabbed my phone to reply.
ME: You have?
He responded quickly. I glanced at the time—twelve-fifteen. He’d be on lunch.
JOSH: Yeah, he messaged late last night. He just moved nearby a month ago. Works at the Montana Bears.
ME: Sports? Really? Did I ever tell you how much I hate sports?
JOSH: He doesn’t play. He’s a physio for the team.
ME: Oh. Does he travel with them?
JOSH: Yeah, but he mostly works with the injured players who are in recovery so he’s here most of the time.
ME: Oh. Okay.
JOSH: Interested? He’s 29. Fits all your parameters. Never read the HP books but likes the movies.
ME: He’s already better than the last one.
JOSH: If you say so.
ME: He can’t be much worse. And if he is, I’ll know you did it deliberately.
JOSH: Why would I deliberately send you on bad dates?
ME: I don’t know. Why are you happy last night went badly?
Welp. So much for not bringing it up.
Nothing. No quick reply. It’d only been a few minutes since we’d struck up our conversation, so there was no way he’d suddenly had to finish lunch and get back to work.
I wasn’t buying it.
ME: You’re the one who said it.
JOSH: Actually, I said I wasn’t sorry it went badly.
ME: That’s the same thing.
JOSH: Technically not.
ME: Technically is.
JOSH: Do you want me to give you his number or not?
ME: I want to know why you aren’t sorry my date went badly.
I was well and truly in the trenches now.
May as well keep going, Kinsley.
ME: And don’t try to tell me it’s just because you didn’t like the guy. That’s my brother’s line.
I didn’t really expect a reply.
Which was just as well, because as I rung a customer up twenty minutes later, I still didn’t have one.
“Thank you.” I smiled at the customer and waved as she left with her adorable little boy. He waved back, and the bell over the door jingled to announce their departure.
It rang again almost immediately, and Holley’s arrival was announced by an “Oomph!” as the heavy door bumped back into her. I got up and rushed over to the door and grabbed hold of it to open it.
“Thanks.” She blew out a sigh, her bottom lip directing it up toward her bangs which fluttered. She stepped into the store with a huge cardboard box and a groan.
“What on Earth is that?”
“Books.” She grunted as she put it on the tables at the front of the store.
“Why—never mind.” I shook my head.
“Phew. That was heavy.” She opened the box flaps and pulled out a book to show me.
I frowned as I took it. The cover was an adorable illustrated one with
