Page 13 of There Is Also a Dog
He plows right on past my comment instead of plowingme. “It can refer to any hardware or software system with a biological component. Or elements equivalent to hardware or software in a living thing. Like the nervous system or the human brain. The human brain is composed of seventy-five percent water. Hence, wet.”
“Yes. Another part of me is also very wet.”
Crickets.
He blinks once, clears his throat, and then turns his attention back to his laptop.
“Did you, um… Can I make you some of that hot chocolate you brought over?”
“Not tonight,” he blurts out. “Maybe later.”
“Oh. Okay...”So there will be a later…I attempt a husky voice because I haven’t made enough of a wanton fool of myself yet. “I am in the mood for some sugar, though...”
Without skipping a beat, much less pausing to consider whether or not I was, indeed, blatantly hitting on him, he reaches into one of his coat pockets and pulls out a wrapped lollipop. He offers it to me without making eye contact, but he does glance at my cleavage, which I will take as a win. “It’s sugar-free, but it’s good.”
I take it from him, sighing again. “Thanks.” I put it on the table, on top of my notebook. I’ll save it for later when my eyes aren’t burning with tears and my lower lip isn’t quivering, and there isn’t a stupid lump in my throat.
I give up.
I’m not ready for this sort of thing with someone I’m actually interested in anyway.
I turn away from him and reach up to cover my mouth, but it’s too late—I release a loud, unmistakablysadsigh. To make matters worse, all the water in my brain is now squirting out of my tear ducts. And my nose.
I’m sobbing.
I am sobbing in front of the man I was just trying to seduce.
This is humiliating.
Fuck you, Christmas!
Suddenly, I feel a big, warm hand on my shoulder. “Hey.” His voice is soft and gentle. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I wipe at my nose with the back of my forearm. “It’s nothing. I don’t even know why I’m crying. My ex-boyfriend got married tonight. We broke up a year ago. I’m not even in love with him anymore—we fell out of love with each other so slowly over a long period. Just…ran its course. It happens, right? I have no idea why I’m…”
He steps around so I’m facing him. “I understand.” He wipes away the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs. “I know the feeling,” he says. “My ex-wife got remarried last month.”
“Really?”
He nods. “It’s the comfort of having a companion that I miss. And the idea that romantic love lasts forever, I suppose. And knowing that I had a strong connection with someone.”
“Yes.” There is nothing else I could add to that. “Yes.”
“It’s not easy to be alone on Christmas.”
“Yes, it is,” I snap. But I don’t even believe myself. I sounded like a bratty two-year-old. I clear my throat. “I mean…maybe if I had your dog, I’d feel better…” I grin at him.
And I get a smile in return. An honest-to-God smile from Mitchell Conrad. His dark brown eyes radiate warmth behind those lenses, and it’s really something. “Maybe you should get your own, and they can have playdates.”
“Maybe… The truth is my office hours are so long it wouldn’t be fair to a dog.” I look over at Agnes, who’s stretched out on one of the area rugs. My lower lip sticks out. She’s right there and I already miss her.
“Maybe you should consider a job with less office hours then.”
My instinct is to scoff at that, even though I have been seriously considering this lately. “Hah. Sure. I’ll just work less. I will get right on that, ASAP.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
“I do suit myself, thank you very much.”Because I’m totally single and I don’t have to suit anyone else.“What doyoudo?”
