“And I know it probably seems hypocritical, but I—”
“No,” I said, not interested in anything that was going to take this shot away. “It doesn’t. It’s fine. It’s good. When and where?”
I’d expected her to throw out a tame coffee meetup, but Duffy wasn’t playing.
“Can you meet me tomorrow morning for breakfast at Saskow’s?”
Saskow’s was the cool breakfast spot in the city, where they sold out of pastries within the first hour and it was always packed, no matter the time. There was zero doubt we would be spotted at Saskow’s.
“What time?”
“Does seven work for you?” she asked.
Anything that works for you works for me, I wanted to say like a total chump, but I restrained myself.
Which was for the best because her next statement was brutal.
“Since this is all for show and we need to look happy, can we just agree not to talk about anything personal?” she asked. “Like, let’s just grab a breakfast sandwich, talk about sports or TV, and go our separate ways until next week.”
I said yes,but I now regretted it as she sat down across from me because all I wanted to do was drag her chair around to my side of the table and beg her to give me another chance.
“Hey,” she said with a smile, one that would work for strangers but I could see wasn’t reaching her eyes.
“Hey,” I replied, my chest tightening.
Because there was something about being so close to the only person I wanted and knowing she didn’t want to be there that felt too fucking terrible for words.
She picked up the menu in front of her and started looking at it, that polite and fake-as-hell smile still on her mouth. “I’m starving, so everything sounds good.”
“Yeah,” I said, disappointment settling into my gut as I realized this fucking false bullshit wasn’t going to change a thing between us. “You’ll love the pancakes here.”
Her eyes shot to mine, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as ifshe were irritated that I’d dared to acknowledge that I knew she loved pancakes.
“What, I can’t suggest a menu item?” I asked, feeling fucking punchy all of a sudden.
“Of course you can,” she said, her eyes narrowing even more as she looked at me like she wasn’t sure what I was up to. “Thank you.”
“By the way, you look really pretty today,” I said, leaning forward and lowering my voice. “No one has a face like you, Duff. It’s soft and gorgeous, but it’s also stubborn and sharp and fucking interesting as shit. I could stare at you for hours and never get bored.”
Her mouth dropped open. She blinked fast and closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and squinting at me. “What the hell are you doing?”
I shrugged. “Just stating a fact, I guess.”
“No, you’re not, you’re being obnoxious.”
That actually made me smile a little, which was surprising when I felt ornery as fuck. “How is me telling you how much I like your face obnoxious?”
“You’re only saying it because I told you not to.”
“Um, no, you’re wrong, and also when did you tell me not to call you pretty?”
“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “You’re going to ruin everything, so stop it.”
“How am I going to ruin everything exactly?” I asked, feeling marginally better even though she was scowling at me. I couldn’t stand the politeness and stoicism—at least she was showing some sort of emotion with me now.
“Because now I probably look like an angry psycho instead of a besotted girlfriend.”
“Then smile,” I said, knowing it would irritate her.