Page 22 of Love Rescheduled

“You’re a good kid,” Hal said, sounding very fatherly.

“You best get your walk in,” Stu added.

I leaned away, wiped my eyes, and nodded.

“Good luck kicking that fella out of your house,” Stu said.

Oh, I didn’t need luck. I had neurotic tendencies on my side.

I TIPTOED INTO MY HOUSE. Not sure why I was being so considerate of my unwelcome houseguest. Maybe because as much as I needed him to go, there was a part of me wishing he could stay forever. Except, that part of me was super humiliated and hated him for it. Go, he must.

I hung up my jacket with a deep sigh.

“Hi, honey. You’re home,” filled the air, startling me.

My heart beat out of control as I grabbed my chest and spun around. I found a disheveled Josh sitting up, running a hand through his mussed hair. “I’m not your honey.”

“You used to like it when I called you that.”

I stepped closer, glaring at him. “Used to being the keywords.”

My ire didn’t faze him one iota. “Do you like sweetheart better now? Baby? Goddess divine?”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to be taken in by his charm. “You need to go.” Like right this minute, before I wanted to kiss him until he made me forget why we weren’t right for each other.

“Hmm.” He bounced a bit on the couch. “I don’t know. This couch is pretty comfy. I’m going to pass.”

I rubbed my forehead. “You can’t just stay here. I didn’t invite you, and I’m in the middle of an extensive project.”

“For work?”

“No.”

He looked around at my pristinely clean house. “Home renovation?”

“No.” I looked down at my feet as if that would give me some courage to tell him the crazy truth.

“So, what’s this extensive project?”

I let out a heavy breath and raised my head.

Josh’s smooth-as-chocolate eyes grabbed my own and refused to let go.

I swallowed hard. “The truth is, I’m getting married this fall.”

Josh’s face turned the color of a few-days-old corpse. Yes, I knew what that looked like. As an editor, you would not believe the things I had to research. I prayed the NSA wasn’t studying my internet-browsing habits.

“You’re engaged?” he could hardly say the words.

“No,” I admitted.

His face contorted. “You just said you were getting married.”

“I am.” I walked past him to the kitchen to get some water before I went back to work.

Josh reached out and gently grabbed my arm on the way. Pain etched his features, making me feel guilty, but I couldn’t retreat now, no matter how much his touch felt like home and happier days. “Nat, are you with someone?” he begged to know.

I shook my head, fearing if I opened my mouth, my heart would speak on my behalf.

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