Page 17 of Both Sides Now

He shifts again in his chair. I've hit a nerve. "I suppose you have a point."

"Tell me about her, this woman you date." I'm not sure why I care to know, but I don't want this moment to end. For the first time in longer than I can recall, I feel normal. Alive.

Keegan shrugs, his gaze focused on the far wall. "Not much to tell."

"I'm sure that isn't true."

"I'm serious, but since you asked, this is Megan.” He pulls out his phone and slides it across the table. On the screen is agorgeous brunette, not a day over twenty-five. With voluptuous curves spilling out of her body-conscious dress and her come-hither smile, Megan is every man's dream.

Their very wet dream.

I drop my gaze to inspect my outfit, which only an hour earlier seemed perfectly acceptable for a coffee run. Now, my messy bun and dog-covered sweats seem ridiculous and dowdy when compared to Megan’s glamorous appeal.

Talk about polar opposites.

"She's gorgeous, Keegan."

What else can I say? If you look in the dictionary beside the word high-maintenance, you'll find Megan’s photo?

“Yes, and she knows it,” Keegan mutters.

"Most women like her have a healthy self-confidence. Why wouldn’t she?”

"If only she had the brains to back it up."

I cover my mouth, but a giggle slips through at his pointed barb. "That's not very nice."

"Perhaps not, but it's true. Somewhere, there's a village missing their idiot."

The man should have given me fair warning that he was going to make that statement. I'm mid sip when coffee spurts from my lips, covering everything—and everyone—at the table. Hell, I think a few drops wound up on Domino.

My cheeks flame as I snatch a napkin from the holder to blot up my mess. "Talk about a party foul. I didn't get you, did I?"

I wish establishments came equipped with trapdoors for just such an occasion.

Thankfully, Keegan is more amused than disturbed by my coffee fountain trick. He grabs a napkin, helping to clear the evidence from the table. "I'm safe. This time, at least.”

“I’ve never heard that expression before. It struck me as funny."

"Which one? A village is missing their idiot? My mother's family is from the South, and they are the kings of interesting expressions." He laughs, and it’s then I notice the dimple beneath his stubble. "To be honest, I'd always hoped for a reaction just like the one you gave me. Thank you, Calli."

I pause at the use of my nickname. It's not that I dislike being called Calli. Hell, most of my friends and family adopted the moniker years ago. But there's a familiarity with it, one far beyond the connection I have with Keegan.

Even though Keegan doesn't feel like a stranger. In truth, he's the most comfort I've found since Charlie died.

Time to shake my brain off the path it seems to determined to tread.

I motion to Keegan’s face. "Are you growing a beard or just giving your razor a few days off?"

He runs his hand over his jaw. "I haven't totally decided yet. I'd like to, but?—"

"Your girlfriend doesn't like beards."

He snaps his fingers, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Bingo. Do you like beards, Calli?"

There's my nickname again. Every time he says it, warmth flows through my body, heating areas that have been frozen for almost two years. "I have a weakness for them, actually. Charlie couldn't grow a beard. He tried, but it was all patchy and looked like he had mange. But a man with a nice beard? That's sexy."

Oh God, did I just infer that Keegan is sexy?

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