Page 29 of Scoop Me Up
“Well, we should probably get going then.”
“I’m excited,” Gabe said as he slipped on his sneakers. “I haven’t had a chance to go to the pub yet. And I haven’t been out for drinks with friends in… I don’t know how long. Definitely over a year.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Not since the divorce?”
He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not since the divorce,” he confirmed. “After Jennifer and I split, I threw myself into work. Lots of late nights. And I had Ellie every other weekend, so that knocked out fifty percent of the free time I did let myself have.”
“Makes sense,” I said. We stepped outside into the warm summer evening and Gabe hit the unlock button on his key fob.Before he could get in, I stopped walking. “You want to just walk?”
“Is it that close?”
I laughed. “Just about everything in Maplewood is that close. Besides, if we walk and you decide to have a few drinks, you don’t have to worry about driving home.”
“Great point,” he said, locking his car again.
“And not that it matters now, but you don’t really need to lock your car here either. Nobody’s going to bother it.”
He looked at me skeptically. “You sure?”
I put a hand on Gabe’s upper arm before immediately recognizing I’d made a mistake and forcing myself not to yank my hand away like I’d been burned. Heat roiled under my hand and I was dying for more. “I’m sure,” I murmured, removing my hand from his arm as quickly as I could get away with. I didn’t want to be suspicious, but he fixed me with a quizzical look anyway, his brows furrowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Butterflies in my stomach fluttered hard.
Fuck. I had it bad for this guy.
We headed toward the pub, walking along the sidewalk quietly, the hum of summer insects and our shoes on the pavement the only sounds for a few blocks.
“So,” I said eventually.
“So?”
“Tell me something,” I said.
“Like what?”
I shrugged and held up my hands. “I don’t know. Anything. Tell me about yourself. We barely know each other and we’re going to be roommates for the next six weeks. What do I need to know about you?”
“There’s not much to know.” He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I'm a thirty-something divorced dad. I'm a business consultant. I… I'm boring.”
“Not possible.”
He glanced over at me. “What about you? Maybe I should be interrogating you, instead.”
“Is that what I'm doing?”
He laughed and shrugged. “Maybe.” A few seconds passed. “Okay, fine. I grew up in Burlington. Met Jennifer in grad school while I was getting my MBA.”
I held up my hand. “Okay, but you're just giving me the basics. I could've found most of this stuff out with a quick search online. What aboutyou?”
He nodded slowly. “How's this? I prefer cats to dogs. My favorite color is orange. I have a scar on my shoulder from a bad bike accident when I was ten.”
“Your shoulder?”
“I was in a sleeveless shirt. Fell and hit the ground pretty hard. Had to have the urgent care doctor pick gravel out of the wound. It left its mark.” He glanced my way again. “Your turn.”
“Alright. Cats, blue, no scars, but I do have a tattoo.”
Gabe’s eyebrows shot up. “A tattoo? Can I see?”
I shook my head. “That’s for privileged eyes only.”
