Page 62 of Keller

I wrap my hands around my mug. The ceramic is warm against my palms. "I went to a movie this weekend."

"With glasses guy?"

"His name is Keller."

"With Keller." She draws out the syllables, grinning. "What movie?"

"The Housemaid."

I hold my breath because I know she's going to give me a hard time for going without her.

"You're cheating on me?! I thought we were supposed to go see that together."

"You bailed on me three times. It's going to be out of theatres soon. Plus, I'll go again with you. It was so good."

"More importantly, did y'all hold hands and kiss?"

"No." I take a sip of my coffee. "But he did seem to get into it. And he indulged all of my post-movie analyzing."

Leah's eyebrows rise. "He asked for your analysis?"

"I wouldn't say he asked, but he listened. And at least seemed interested. And he still kissed me."

"You did kiss! Please tell me it was in the dark theatre. I want to live vicariously through you."

"No, sorry to disappoint. I was too into the movie. But he walked me to my door when he dropped me off, and it was hot and steamy. Better than the theatre, if you ask me."

"You let it end there? Y'all have already slept together, why are we going backwards?"

"You know why. Once I found out he was a Stone, it just felt off."

Leah leans back in her seat, wrapping both hands around her cup. Steam curls between us.

"But you keep seeing him, right? Drinks, runs, walks in the park, juice bars. You sound like a suburban newlywed couple."

"We've been hanging out. Yesterday was the first time we've kissed since… You know."

"But you're still seeing him. After sleeping with him. I don't care how much you kid yourself, you don't do that in that order unless there is more there."

I don't answer right away. I sip my coffee loudly, as I think about what she's saying. I know she isn't wrong, but I'm not ready to admit it to myself, much less say it out loud to someone else.

"You sound different."

"What do you mean?"

"When you talk about him." She pauses, choosing her words. "There's something in your voice. It's softer."

"I'm always soft."

"You sound like someone who had fun. Actual fun. Not obligation fun. Not networking fun. The real thing."

I stare at my coffee. The surface ripples slightly from the vibration of the espresso machine.

"I do have fun with him. Leah, I do like him. But I shouldn't."

Leah waits. She knows me well enough to know there is more.

"I like the way we don't have to try to come up with things to talk about. I like his dry sense of humor. I like that he remembered I don't like pulp in my orange juice."