His wife.
He’s going to introduce me to his wife, and you know what? It's fine. All the more reason to distance myself. Maybe he hasn’t even been flirting with me all this time and I’ve been looking way too hard into our interactions. Why does that thought seem to hurt more?
“Um, of course.” I scoot out of the booth and stretch out my hand.“I had no idea Clint was married. It's lovely to meet you.”
She laughs. Literally laughs in my face, and like a damn fool, my wide eyes find Clint who is also laughing. “Can someone fill me in on the comedy special because this is either a sick joke or someone, probably me, isn't going to make it out of the noodle bar alive.” With this realization, I take a step back.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” The beauty with the booty says between giggles. “He isnotmy husband. Ugh gross.” She jokingly gags, pointing a finger into her mouth.
“Paloma, meet Selene. My wonderful, very-much-not-my-wife cousin.” A bark of laughter follows, but when I look at the both of them I realize it's me who’s laughing.
“This entire time,” I whisper beneath my breath before saying hello. “Selene, it’s really nice to meet you, again, officially. Do you want to join us?” I ask, not wanting to be rude.
“No, and it's nice to meet you as well. Wow, I needed that laugh. Whew!” Selene brings her hand up to her jaw and holds it for a moment. “Oh, my face hurts. I’m actually here to pick up my order. Bighead here let me know about this spot a few years ago when I asked about a good late night place. You guys enjoy your date.”
Before I can correct her, she’s saying goodbye to her cousin, grabbing her bag of unforgettable ramen, and walking out of the door. Scooting back into the booth, I rub my hands up and down my thighs before I quickly shake my head at my thoughts. I take another bite of my food to take the edge off, and Clint joins me.
“What in the world would make you think she was my wife?” he asks, chuckling still.
“I may have seen you both at Sweet Bean and then at Shaken Tropes, and I put two and two together, but apparently I can’t add for shit.”
Clinton’s chest rumbles with a laugh. “Yeah, your math kinda sucks.”
When I snap my eyes up to his, he’s grinning from ear to ear. I fake an annoyed scoff and point my chopsticks at him. “You think you’re so funny, hm?”
“I’m no mathematician but—” He laughs as I swat his arm.
“You are a shameless flirt.” This time I laugh with him. “How’s it been being back home? Really?” I ask him, wanting to know if he missed this place. I bite the inside of my cheek as I consider the thought of him missing me.
“It’s been good. I finally have everything unpacked and how I like it. Being back home feels just like I hoped it would,” he says, biting into agyoza.
“How so?” Peering down into my broth, I bring a spoonful of it up to my mouth and sip.
One of his dimples deepens with his smirk. “Like I’d been missing something but then finally, like no time has passed at all, there she is.”
“She?”
“Home.” He dips his head lower, sipping his broth, but his eyes remain focused on me.
I think my brain is short-circuiting as I consider maybe I could be thesheClinton is talking about.No. I couldn’t be right.My silly thoughts of him missing me too return to my mind, but I refuse to dwell on them.
Lifting my gaze to his, I watch his tongue run along his lower lip, and I cross my legs. This man could very well be wearing a trash bag and it wouldn’t matter. He’s that damn good looking. Though I know I’ve been calling our situationship a fling, it was so much more. It was the beginning of something more than I ever understood, and even now I don't know if I’ll ever be able to give him what he wants. But am I stingy enough to pull him into my life again or still too foolish to let him go?
17
Chuck:Wait, did that just happen? Over ramen?
Lou:Man’s got taste. Comfort food and a risky move? Respect.
Chuck:And it looks like he’s already got the mom on his side. But her thinking the cousin was his wife—my face still hurts from laughing.
Lou:Right. Nothing says "no thanks” like a sudden "he could be married."
Paloma and I have been leaning against her car, simply talking about all the times we would find ourselves at Midnight Miso. She leans into me, resting against the front door of the car, and if I were a worse man I would lean over and steal a kiss. I want to be the man who does, but I can’t, no matter how much I long to feel her pressed against me again; I won't risk hurting myself or pulling her into an uncomfortable situation she isn't ready for.
Not a second time.
“Remember the night we thought it was a genius idea to have ramen on the course?” she asks, leaning her head on my shoulder. I’m not sure if she even realizes she’s doing it, but I won’t stop her. Not when I want her to follow along with me, right over the edge.
