Page 11 of Doing Life

“Yeah, it can cause some motion sickness.” Dan clapped him on the arm, careful not to jostle him too much where he had scars. “Holler when you’re ready for me to come get you. I think I’m gonna go to the used bookstore.”

“Cool. I’ll text.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “To the curb, Abby.”

They made it in to the coffee shop without too much trouble, the bell above the door ringing.

“Welcome in!” The voice was light, female, and Texas to the bone.

“Forward, Abby.” He wanted a cinnamon toast latte and some sort of pastry. He didn’t know if Sloan was here or not, but surely the man would say so.

“How are you today?”

“Good. I want one of your cinnamon toast lattes. What kind of pastries do you have today?”

“We have cinnamon buns, chocolate croissants, blueberry muffins, and Mexican hot chocolate eclairs.”

Oh, the eclairs sounded good, but that was a treat for hiding in the bedroom with the door locked. “I think I’ll do a blueberry muffin…”

How much of a mess could he make with that?

“You don’t want something chocolate? You love chocolate.” Sloan’s voice rattled him, balls to bones. He tried to hide it, not jump like an idiot.

“I don’t. It’s messy, and I have to ride home, you know?” And he didn’t want to look a fool, dammit.

He could hear Sloan thinking, he was sure of it. Like gears spinning, cogs clanking and whirring. “I— Sure. Okay.” Sloan’s inhale was clear. “I’ll take the chocolate croissant and a…”

“Black coffee with a splash of cream,” Lance said. Sloan had never ordered anything else.

Now Sloan snorted. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Come on and sit. I’ll get the stuff when it comes up.”

“I’ll deliver,” the barista called out.

“Where am I headed?”

“I’m not sure what you need me to do.” Sloan was right there, almost close enough to feel his heat, but he didn’t touch Lance at all.

“Just go, and I’ll let Abby follow you.”

“I can do that.” Sloan moved away, the sound tracking off to his right.

“Follow, Abby.” He and Abby had all sorts of commands, and Abby was getting them down. Their trainer said Abby knew way more words than some of the other dogs already.

Of course she did. Abby was the greatest dog in the history of dogs, and there had been a long history of great dogs. Hell, he was beginning to think Abby was the best friend he was ever gonna have.

“I picked a table; the chair’s right here by your right hand,” Sloane said, and he nodded.

“Thanks.” He pulled the chair out and managed to sit and not kill himself, which was a new little victory every time it happened. Then Abby settled in, and so did he.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, sitting here with his Mr. Right. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to break up with somebody twice. But that was just what he was going to do.

“All right, I’m here. You have some talking to do. So youbetter get on with it. I have to catch my ride before it leaves. I only have about an hour.” Which wasn’t all the way true, but it was close enough.

“I came here to try to win you back,” Sloan said, his tone deadly serious.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, that was a monumental waste of time. What? You left your job, bought a house here in Nowhere, Texas?”

“No, I’m renting a house, and yeah, I took a leave of absence from my job. I didn’t know for sure you were here, so I applied at a bunch of different places that had a bunch of different rehabs that I thought you might choose. This was the one that offered me a job. I can’t tell you how incredibly grateful I am that I didn’t get the one down near New Orleans. The humidity is going to kill me here. I can’t imagine what it was going to do back down there...”

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