Page 91 of Castings & Curses

Eric shrugged. “Lana hates everybody, well not everybody, but she hates me. The funny thing is she is the one who dumped me.”

“Wait, you dated her?”

“I went out on a date, once. One single date, way back. I was nineteen, twenty tops. She might have been a senior, might have just graduated. I don’t remember much other than about halfway through the date she said I was boring and that I should take her home. I did. That was the end of that, or so I thought. Ran into her a few weeks later and she said she didn’t realize who my folks were, and that I should ask her out again. I declined. She hasn’t forgiven me. Maybe you slighted her in high school and she’s still holding a grudge.”

“I didn’t go to high school with her. At least I don’t think so. Huh. Well, she put me on edge, and then the nurse kept asking leading questions with a judgy tone. Why hadn’t I had my ultrasound yet, where was my husband… shit like that.”

“She was out of line. That was unprofessional, you should tell Dr. Booth.”

“What? No. She’ll be even worse next time if I do that.”

“Paisley, she was out of line.” His words were clipped.

I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

He inhaled sharply and his nostrils flared. Damn, broody was hot on him. “What?”

He shook his head. “I should hold my comments, this is your time to talk.”

“Oh no you don’t, spill it.”

He spilled. “If no one tells Dr. Booth, she’ll continue to be out of line. You are an adult, and she hurt your feelings, what happens when she’s like that to a scared little girl? You don’t have to say anything. I have professional connections. I’ll let him know.”

“Eric, you can’t.” I was terrified.

“I can, and I will. There is no way this will get back to you being the source, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

He reached his hand across the table and extended his little finger. “Pinky swear.”

I hooked my little finger with his. A surge of warmth and tingles traveled up my arm and over all of my skin. I didn’t want to let go.

“So, yeah, my feelings got hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Paisley, I didn’t mean to minimize your pain by saying it like that.”

I waved him off. “But it's the truth. I got bruised in the feels, and I was feeling all of them. Irresponsible mother for not having the ultrasound yet. Bad woman for letting someone like Dylan go. Loser for being back in Duchamp with no other place to go.”

His warm hand covered mine. He was still here. I was crying again, and Eric was still here.

“You’re not a loser for coming home. And if Dylan could never see you for who you are on his own without your ‘wish,’ his loss, not yours. And I bet you have already scheduled that ultrasound. Do you need someone to go with you to that appointment? I know it can be a nerve wracking one.”

“Really?” I asked. “You’d do that for me?”

“I would.”

I melted. I hid my fluster and embarrassment in a flurry of eating.

“Eric?” I finally said after a few quiet moments where we stuffed our faces. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Does this count? I mean, yes. Yes, I would.”

I tried not to read anything into how quickly he answered.

“But does this count?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. What would make it a date?”

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