“Yup.” I shift, uncomfortable talking about Briar, but also a little staggered by the fact that she’s so astute. Like she already knows me. “So, I’ve kept things simple since then.”
“How long?”
“Uh…October before last.”
“Over a year and you’re still pining?”
“God, no. Over a year but not interested in putting myself in a position to be hurt again.”
“That’s part of life, though, isn’t it?”
“I could say the same for you, though. I mean, you can make excuses about how hard it is to date, but if you met someone you really liked you’d find a way. Since you said you don’t, you appear to be protecting yourself too. And it’s totally understandable. Some guy knocked you up and left—that’s way worse than what I wentthrough. I get it, that need to protect yourself. I think we’re all pretty pain-averse.”
“I never thought of it that way, but you’re right.”
“Life is complicated. Adulting is definitely more complex than we were led to believe as kids. That whole ‘I can go to bed whenever I want when I’m a grownup’ line is way overrated.”
She snickers. “For sure. And the one about eating ice cream for dinner.”
“Yeah, then you become a pro athlete and there’s no ice cream at all—for dinner, dessert, or any other meal.”
“Never?”
“In the off-season, I get to enjoy myself. Not too much, though, because the weight can creep up if you’re not careful.”
“But with all the calories you burn, I would think you can eat anything?” she asks in confusion.
“Yes and no. When I was twenty-one? Absolutely. Cookies for breakfast. Ice cream after a game. All the beer I wanted. Now that I’m almost twenty-nine, my body is changing. I have to be more careful what I put in it. Don’t get me wrong—I cheat and splurge, but I generally stick to lean meats like chicken and fish. Substitute quinoa and kale for rice or pasta. Like you said about putting veggies in the brownies? I do that for a lot of dishes. Half brown rice, half quinoa, so you barely notice. Big salad that’s seventy-five percent grilled chicken.”
She nods. “I get it. I used to eat that way when I was acting. The camera really does add pounds. That’s why I can be so creative at my job now—I learned how to do it for myself.”
“I’d be interested in trying vegetable brownies.”
“I’ll make you a batch.”
Our eyes lock, the now familiar sizzle burning between us. Under almost any other circumstance, I would lean in, press my lips to hers, see what there is to see.
But I can’t do that here. Not tonight.
Something about being together like this feels…important. Way more important than kissing or sex or any of my usual activities.
Before I can fully figure out what I’m thinking—or more importantly, what I’m feeling—there’s a flicker of light.
And then everything goes dark.
Chapter
Six
Serena
Great.
Not only is there an ice storm, but the electricity just went out.
“Shit,” I mutter, moving my book and sliding off the couch. There’s a little light from the wood stove and I pad into the kitchen to grab matches.
“What can I do?” West asks.