I stand there awkwardly as he continues to pet Patches. What should I say now? I used to be so good at this kind of thing, at charming people into wanting to spend time with me. But my social muscles have atrophied.
“So, is this part of your friendship auditioning process? Sucking up to my cat?” I finally ask.
“Totally,” he replies.
His reply makes me brave enough to push for more. “As more of your friendship auditioning process, do you want to hang out sometime this weekend? Maybe you could show me some of Auckland?” I say the words in a rush, so they come out all blurred together.
But I already know Jared is gifted at deciphering my words when my elocution isn’t the best. We had three hours trapped in a tomo to prove that.
He fixes those gorgeous brown eyes on me.
“I’m working Sunday, and I’ve already got plans for tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay.”
Well, I guess that gives me the answer about whether this friendship thing is going to continue.
My throat goes tight and I have to swallow hard. I should have known better than to think the hot paramedic neighbor actually wants to spend time with me. The brownies are probably just him being polite, the conversational equivalent of holding a door open for someone you never want to see again.
I try not to let my disappointment show on my face.
Jared’s eyebrows draw together slightly. His hand stills on Patches’ fur, his attention shifting fully to me.
“Tomorrow, I’m just taking my niece Emmy to the aquarium if you want to join us?” Jared says.
The cold, heavy feeling in my chest evaporates so fast I get emotional whiplash.
Suddenly, I’m grinning like an idiot who just won the lottery. Except, rather than millions, the winning prize is spending time with Jared and a small human while looking at fish.
My standards for excitement have really shifted since the accident.
“You don’t think she’ll mind if I tag along?” I say.
“She definitely won’t mind. She’s only four. You’ll be another person to pay attention to her.”
“Great. I promise to be on my best behavior. Well, I’ll try not to make any inappropriate jokes about which fish would look most delicious with lemon butter.”
Jared releases his rumbling laugh, and for a few seconds, we just stand there, grinning at each other.
He runs a hand through his hair, looking adoringly bashful.
“Uh…if you haven’t had dinner yet, I’m just going to order pizza and watch some TV. You’re welcome to join me,” Jared says.
Now my smile is threatening to launch off my face and maybe take over the whole country. I try to wrestle it back.
“Well, I suppose I do owe you the pleasure of my company as payback for those delicious-looking brownies.”
“It’s probably fair payment,” Jared agrees.
I follow him down the hallway to his apartment. Once I’m inside, I try not to let my eyes linger on the door to his bedroom and replay the fun times I had last weekend behind that door.
Because we’re doing the friends thing. I can do that. Totally.
I plonk myself on the couch and see that his TV has been paused partway through an episode of something.
“So, what were you watching?”
He looks slightly sheepish. “I’m just rewatching some old episodes ofGetting the Goonsbefore the new season drops.” He names a New Zealand spoof crime show that has a cult following.
