Page 82 of We Met Like This
“When I was twenty-three, signing this thing, I was pretty naïve. I thought this was the first step into the future. I didn’t realize it would later become something else holding me back.”
“Is it predatory?” he asked in a voice that seemed to say,Give me one reason to fight Rob and I’m there.
“No, it’s pretty standard. I understand why everything is in here. I just wish it wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry.” He opened his computer and began typing.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Something stronger?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
“Okay.”
He had sat on the middle cushion of the couch, which made me smile because that meant I had to sit right next to him. And I did. As close as humanly possible without touching.
The muscle in his jaw jumped. He had a nice jaw. It had severaldays’ worth of scruff on it, a look I was fond of. He pulled it off very well. It emphasized the sharp lines of his face even more.
“Can I get your Wi-Fi info?”
“What?” I asked. “I was distracted because you look really good today.”
“Just today?” he asked, with a head tilt.
I shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve noticed.”
He laughed. “The Wi-Fi.”
“Right.” I gestured toward the keyboard and he turned it to face me. I typed in the required password and then leaned back as the Wi-Fi thought hard about connecting.
His phone, which he had set on the coffee table, buzzed with an incoming call. Without meaning to, I looked at the screen.Sophie.
I swallowed as a tightness gripped my throat, but he ignored the call and his phone went still.
“You can get it,” I said, when it buzzed to life again.
“Just let me make sure…” He cringed but stood and walked to the opposite side of the room while swiping to answer. “Hello.”
His back was to me and he absentmindedly studied the bookcase full of knickknacks and random things Sloane and I had collected over the years as he listened to whatever the woman on the other end was saying. He picked up a Velma figurine and turned it toward me with a questioning eyebrow raise.
“It’s a classy decoration,” I said, and he smiled and put it back.
“Soph, it’s fine. Mom doesn’t hold it against you,” he spoke into the phone. “She understands.”
My wave of unwanted jealousy from before evaporated.
“Of course I understand. Don’t worry about me.” He let out the most affectionate low chuckle. “Yes, I will ditch her on her birthday next year to make you feel better.” A pause. “You’re welcome. I have to go… None of your business… No. Bye.” He hung up the phone and came to sit back down.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“My sister is feeling bad about missing a birthday dinner in a couple days.”
“Does she live close?”
“Relatively. About seven hours north. She has a lot of guilt that I am burdened with Mom. It’s not a burden, though, and my sister spent lots of time looking after my mom when I was in college.”
“You’re a good son,” I said.
“I’m an average son.”
