Page 23 of French Kiss

After a few minutes with the window open, we were no longer at risk of crying, and the goggles were stored back in the cupboard. He gave me the job of squeezing limes while he chopped cilantro for the pico de gallo salsa. We worked in silence, and I thought about broaching the subject of Maddox and my growing obsession with him. Josh and I had never talked about the possibility of Maddox and I hooking up or about my dating life at all, so I wasn’t sure if it would be awkward. As it turned out, it was.

“Can I ask you something?” I began.

“Sure… well, you can ask, but I won’t promise I’ll answer. Shoot.”

“Why do you think Maddox dates women for a couple months tops? Is it just immaturity, that he’s not able to be in a long-term relationship?”

“I think he dates them because he can.”

“So why don’t you date a long string of women because you can?”

“Nice of you to assume I can,” he said, smiling his shy Josh smile that added to his boy-next-door appeal. He looked down and started chopping the cilantro, carefully pushing the stems aside and dicing the leaves more methodically than necessary.

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re the same guy who had a girlfriend for the first two years of our program.”

“Exactly. One girlfriend. Not a long string.”

“So you’re a monogamist. That doesn’t make you any less able to attract women.”

Josh laughed. “I love that you believe that. I should hire you as my relationship publicist.”

I opened the bag of tortilla chips I’d brought, unable to wait for Josh to finish making his salsa. “I would take that job. It could be my side hustle when I’m not practicing family medicine.”

“Impressive that you’re already finding moonlighting opportunities before you’ve even started,” Josh said, washing the remains of the onions off his hands and carefully removing the seeds from the jalapeños.

I wasn’t done with my questions. I wanted a guy’s insight into Maddox, and I was tempted to confide that Maddox had been flirting with me mercilessly, but I wondered if it would make Josh uncomfortable. I didn’t ever want him to feel like I was pumping him for information about another guy, even though he probably wouldn’t mind.

Or maybe I just didn’t want him to know how much time I spent wondering about Maddox lately. He’d think less of me. But he kept the conversation going.

“So you want to understand why guys like Maddox do what they do? I mean, I’m probably not the best guy to ask. I’m kind of over the whole revolving-door-of-dating question. I like deeper relationships.”

“He doesn’t, I guess.”

“Sounds like you just answered your question.”

“But Maddox can have depth. We talk about deep things. Doesn’t he talk to you about real stuff?”

“Sure, but that’s because he’s not trying to impress us.”

Josh stopped chopping and wiped his hands. He paused, then returned to the sink and washed them with soap and dried them on a yellow dish towel. He ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture I only saw him do when he was stressed. I wondered if this conversation was stressful to him.

“Look, you’re asking something I think we both know the answer to. Maddox gets real when he’s comfortable. He gets insecure when he thinks women are after him for his looks and his brain and whatever else women see in him. He’s not sure he measures up. So to keep these women from finding out, he impresses them early, and as soon as something bordering on a relationship starts to develop, he sends them packing. He leaves them in the dust while they’re still infatuated with him, before they find out he’s not all that.”

“You really think that’s true? It’s sad if it is.”

“You think I’m wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I’ve never really understood it.”

“Come on, Hannah. You’re smart. You understand it.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I’d never really thought of Maddox as insecure, maybe because he was so good at masking that trait with his big personality. “Has he ever articulated it like that to you?”

“What do you think? He’s probably not fully aware of it himself. It’s been his pattern for so long that he just goes on autopilot.”

That made sense. Since I’d known him, Maddox had followed a pattern. He’d date, he’d break up, and he’d date again. Lately, he’d worked flirting with me into the equation. So he’d date, he’d flirt, he’d break up, then he’d ignore me. I wondered if he was even aware he’d become that predictable.

I was so busy thinking about Maddox, I didn’t notice that Josh had finished making his salsa and was waiting for me to taste it. Finally, he cleared his throat, exaggerating the phlegm. I looked over and he handed me a chip, loaded with perfect pico de gallo.

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