We walked up Causeway Street slowly, neither of us heeding the warning of the occasional crack of thunder or lightning strike in thedistance.
"The pumpkin prejudice is unfortunate," I said. "Now you understand why I need to get home beforemidnight."
"Evidently," Alex murmured.She pointed to the side street where I'd parked. "Go on. I can manage the rest of the way onmyown."
Of course she could. I could also walk her to the door, and she could deal with it. "I'm good," I said. "Gotta get my steps in fortheday."
Alex scoffed at this while we crossed to Cambridge Street. The sidewalk was narrow, forcing her to walk slightly in front of me. We were close enough that her shoulder bumped my chest every few steps, but neither of us sought to change that. Fine hairs curled at the nape of her neck, and before I could recognize that I was the owner of the limb extending toward her, my palm was on her shoulder and my thumb was strokingherneck.
She shot a fleeting glance at me over her shoulder, her lips parted, and pink dotting her cheeks, and said, "I still can't believe you know the Chief's neighbors,andyour firm worked on theirhouse."
"This is a big city," I said as dueling cabbies laid on their horns in the intersection ahead. "But it's also asmalltown."
We stopped at her building, a classic brownstone with a bay window on each floor, and I was still touching her neck.I'd missed every opportunity for a clean break, and now she'd have to wiggle out from under my hold or I'd have to back away and pretend I knew what to do with myhands.
"But what are the odds?" she mused, her attention on locating her keys. "And now they have a beach cottage. How cuteisthat?"
This hand, it was operating of its own volition. I couldn't tearmyselfaway.
"Those people were nightmare clients. My brother and his fiancée worked on that property for severallongyears," I said. "They went away to Vermont for an extended weekend to celebrate when it was finally finished." Instead of seizing this moment to gesticulate or even shove my paws in my fucking pockets, I steered Alex closer.Closer. "I don't think they'd take on that project for any amount ofmoney."
She flattened her hand on my chest and nodded. "Thank them for me,"shesaid.
Lowering my chin, I gazed down at her, fascinated and confused and compelled to do something—anything. A snap of lightning and the quick roar of thunder crashed nearby, and it was like the universe was ordering me to make a fucking decisionalready.
Take her or leave her, but doitnow.
Alex tipped her head back, toward the building. "It's going to start raining soon. Do you want to comeupstairs?"
Yes. Right now. Upstairs. You and me.Fuckyes.
Like reaching for her, it was a decision I'd made without thought, and one that I didn't regret. But a fat raindrop hit my neck before I could reply, and then another, and I flinched at the chilly sting. Alex's eyes widened and her cheeks colored. She thought I was recoilingfromher.
"No," I said, immediately frustrated that I'd confirmed her inference when trying to correct it. "Alex,Imean—"
"You know what?" she asked in a high, snappy tone that was working hard at diffusing the greatest sequence of mixed signals two people had ever thrown at each other. "Maybe nottonight."
But that was our shitty reality. She was fucked up from the douche waffle and I was fucked up from loving my sister-in-law, and I was sure we both had some extra helpings of fucked up from parts as yet unexplored. Combined, that was a lot of fucked up in one place. Mixed signals were par for thecourse.
She took a step back and wrapped an arm around her torso. The other arm was used for some aggressive gesturing that was effective in redefining the space between us. "It has been such a long day"—a clean slice through the air to mark the end of touching for this evening—"and I really do need to get back into my regular sleep schedule." A rapid wave between us to remind me to stay where I was rather than follow her inside. "Anothertime,okay?"
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I blinked at the sidewalk. "Yeah," I said. "I'll text you about getting to a game. The Sox are at home nextweekend,so—"
"So, we'll do this again next weekend," Alex said as she backed up the stone stairs. She stopped on the stoop and leaned against the door, her keys dangling from her index finger. "Or some versionofthis."
I rocked back on my heels, nodding. The sky was the color of a bruise, the clouds dipping low and churning fast as the storm settled over the city. "Maybe you could grab my ass next time,"Isaid.
"I'm all about returning the favor," Alex replied. She smiled, and dropped her hand to the doorknob. "You should head home. It can't be good for pumpkins to get caught intherain."
"Terrible," I said, raising my hand to wave goodbye. "Again, I'm sorry about your lip, and theshoes."
"Forget about it. I needed a reason to get rid of these shoes." She was inside now, her spine pressed to the jamb as she held the door open. "Text me when you gethome,okay?"
I waited until the door closed behind her and the second floor lights illuminated the street-side window before jogging in the direction of my car. It wasn't the easiest undertaking, running downhill in the rain. In dress shoes. While every muddled, contradictory urge waged war in my head. But I made it there, and managed to get home without turning around, driving back to Beacon Hill, banging on Alex's door, and then demanding that she explain to me what the fuck was goingwithus.
It wasn't that I required confirmation as to her mixed signals. No, I'd understood her conflict. What I didn't understand was whether part of that conflict was a desire to purge the memory of her douche waffle ex withsomeone or heranyone.
As the garage door closed behind me at the firehouse, I realized that I didn't know whether I wanted to be Alex's someone or anyone. At one point, I could've been that anonymous anyone. I could've given her some fun times and hot nights, and thenforgether.
