“See the guy over at the grill?” Kevin tilts his head in the direction of the guy I noticed when I walked in.
“Yeah?”
“See the meat cleaver he keeps in his apron?”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“Let’s just say that patrons get a fair warning when they come in here. No one tries their luck twice.”
“I guess that would be a big enough deterrent. So Brad introduced you to this place, huh? The food must be great—he’s known for being a foodie.”
“The best. Trust me.”
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it, but if I get sick and end up in the hospital, you’re coming with me and I’m leaking to the press that you have crabs. I’ve had enough of being front-page news for a while,” I laugh.
Kevin joins in and raises his hands in surrender but then grows serious. “This kind of brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m sure you’re curious as to why I asked you here.”
I nod. “A bit. You said you had a proposition?”
“I do.” He blows out a breath. “Now that we’re here, I feel kinda silly.”
I form what I hope is a reassuring smile, even though, if I’m honest, I feel a bit apprehensive myself now.
The waitress comes back with a chocolate milkshake for me and a cookies-and-crème one for Kevin. He unwraps his straw and takes a long sip. “I don’t really know how to say this…”
I wait and Kevin stares at his fingers wrapped around his glass. “Firstly, I just want to say I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through. I can’t imagine going through what you’ve had to deal with, and having it all plastered over social media. It can’t be easy.”
I look down at my straw, twisting the excess wrapper on either end. My throat is suddenly blocked with unshed tears. You’d think if you’d cried as much as I have lately, there would be no more tears to shed.
“I guess that’s why,” he continues, “when I saw the douche harassing you at the pool today, I couldn’t help but step in. I know what it’s like to be pushed into a corner and still have to be polite to prevent a fallout.”
“Yeah, it sucks donkey balls.”
Kevin laughs. “You can say that again. It’s why when you suggested keeping me, it gave me an idea.”
“Oh… I… Kevin… I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…”
“Yeah, I know that. But it got me thinking, what if you did get to keep me but not on a keep me basis?”
I unwrap my straw now and use the end to scoop some of the cream into my mouth, then swallow. “I’m not following.”
Kevin’s lip curves at the corner, and it makes me wonder how many of his leading ladies have fallen for that smirk. “That’s ’cause I’m being about as clear as mud.” He stirs his milkshake with his straw. “What I’m trying to propose—without sounding as creepy as fuck—is, what if you and I pretend to have a relationship? Shit, that sounds terrible. Seeing what you had to deal with earlier, I just wondered if us ‘being together’”—he uses his fingers to make air quotes—“would take the heat off you, and at the same time, help me with a little problem I have at the moment.”
“Does this problem involve the girl in the pics of you from South Africa?” A few weeks back there were photos of Kevin kissing a girl in South Africa all over the media. You couldn’t see her face, but it was clear she meant something to him.
He raises an eyebrow and leans forward, tracing the top of his glass with his index finger while he waits for me to elaborate.
“I did a teeny bit of research on you.”
His finger stops its rhythmic path and his lip curves on one side. “Is research a synonym for stalking?”
I feel my cheeks heat and resist the urge to press the cool glass against my face. “I prefer to think of it as being prudent. It wouldn’t be very wise of me to go to dinner with a guy I know nothing about,” I tease.
Kevin nods and brings the drink to his lips. I suspect it’s to hide another smile.
“So…” I hesitate, wondering if I should shove the whole dollop of cream into my mouth so I can’t embarrass myself further. Kevin tilts his head, and I decide it’s now or never—I’m making a mammoth fool of myself here. “Who is the girl in the South African pics? Is she the ‘little problem’ you have?”
His chuckle is easy, but something shifts in his eyes and tension slides into his posture. He looks out of the window of the diner into the black night.
Shit! I know damn well what it’s like to have no privacy. Why didn’t I keep my damn nose out of his business?
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I’m just naturally nosy.”
He looks back at me, and his warm smile puts me at ease. “Not at all. It’s just…complicated.”
I pick up the paper from my straw and tie it in knots while I wait for him to formulate his sentence. I’m about to put him out of his misery and tell him not to worry about it when he speaks.
“Claire is my best friend. It sounds cliché, but she’s my rock, my anchor, and for as long as I can remember, she’s been in my life—been there for me. She’s also the—”
“Love of your life?” I interrupt, recognizing the look of someone in love.
Kevin shakes his head. “No, shit no…it’s not like that with us. We’re just friends who…” Kevin trails off, and I can see he’s uncomfortable. For the second time this evening, I’m about to tell him he doesn’t owe me an explanation when he adds, “Claire is home. She’s the one person who isn’t taken in
