“You feel bad about dating someone in front of him after a year?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You said that before.”
She worried her bottom lip, and he was tempted to rub his thumb against it.
“Feel free to tell me to go fuck myself, but…have you moved on?”
She didn’t tell him off. Instead, she thought about for a moment. “I’m trying. I know itistime to move on, if that counts as progress.”
Evan was in dangerous territory. It was none of his business if she’d moved on.
And yet that didn’t stop him from delving deeper.
“I think it does.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Can I share some advice, as someone who has more than my fair share of exes?”
She laughed again, lighter this time. Her eyes sparkled. “Sure.”
“It’s harder in our head. We imagine the worst-case scenarios. Maybe I’m going to reveal myself as an asshole here—”
“Never.”
“But as someone who has been the one to leave, almost always—” This time he cut himself off.
She giggled, a full-on, lean-in laughing-at-him and laughing-with-him moment of enjoyment. “Okay,” she whispered, really close to him now. “That’s maybe a sign that you’re an asshole.”
“I warned you,” he said, his voice rough.
“You haven’t shared the advice yet.”
He’d forgotten what he was going to say. Her mouth was right there.Do not kiss her, he warned himself. The chances of him listening to his better self were not good. “As the one who always leaves,” he repeated. “It’s good to see my former partners being happy. It hurts sometimes, too, but that’s the fair cost of giving them up. And the hurt goes away. It’s never harmful.”
She smiled. “Good. I was feeling badly about being childish, maybe. Rubbing his nose in a date that wasn’t real.”
“It wasn’t completely not real,” he said.
She didn’t reply to that. Instead she picked up her glass, watching him the whole time, and downed the contents. Then she refilled both of their glasses.
“Why do you leave?”
He wasn’t expecting that question. He blinked, refocusing on her face. “I don’t know.”
“Liar,” she whispered.
“I’m not a relationship kind of guy. I try, but it fails every time.”
“Haven’t found the right guy?”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. Wouldn’t need to be a guy, though.”
Her eyebrows arched high.
“I usually date guys, but I’m pansexual.” Why was he telling her this?Because you want to peel her out of that dress even though it’s a dangerous, foolish idea.“In theory, if I were to settle down, it could be with anyone.”
“But you aren’t the settling kind.”
“That’s my working hypothesis, yeah.”
