I laugh, and it’s entirely natural this time. “Thank you.”
“How’ve you been though? You get a job like you mentioned in your email?”
“Yeah, I just started a few days ago. Housekeeping.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Housekeeping?”
“Shut up.” I cringe at how flirtatious those words sound and take another sip of tea to shutmyselfup.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Hey, not judging. Just surprised. You always hated cleaning up after me.” He winks again, and I roll my eyes. “Nah, really though. I’m happy for you. You’re doin’ better on your own than I thought you would.”
“What, you didn’t think I’d be okay?” It comes out more accusatory than I’d intended, my arms crossing over my chest.
“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I just—hell, I don’t know. Been worried about you, that’s all.”
The server, Dylan, comes up with a tray of food, setting each plate down appropriately. I thank him but make a point not to look up at him this time. It seems to do the job, because he turns and leaves without lingering.
I clear my throat, speaking to Bobby again when I say, “Sorry. I don’t know why I said it like that.”
“I do. And it’s okay, I deserved it.”
When I look up at him, he’s watching me. We stare at each other for a little too long, and I honestly don’t know what’s happening. His gaze is getting cloudy, and he bites down on his bottom lip in the way he used to right before . . . Okay, maybe Idoknow what’s happening. And I’m nowhere near ready to go there.
“So . . .” I’m the first to break eye contact, grabbing my fork and using the food on my plate as the perfect excuse to look away. “How long are you staying out here?”
He follows my lead and cuts into his steak, taking a large bite. “No firm plans just yet,” he says between chewing. “Got nothin’ to tie me down back in LA while I’m still between jobs, so who knows . . .” He glances up at me, letting his words fade and leaving the rest of the sentence for me to fill in.
“Bobby, I don’t want you going out of your way to—”
“It’s not out of my way. Really. I wanted to see you, and the timing just fell into place.”
I stay quiet for a minute, mulling over his words. Something about it doesn’t sit right with me. I already know he’s been in between jobs—again—and I’m not about to pretend I have any say in his choices. But he’s basically telling me, without so many words, that his decisions are hanging on me. How long he stays, what he does next with his life, he’s basing it on how things progress with us. If, Lou,ifthings progress with us.
That’s a whole lot of pressure to add to an already rickety roof.
“What about Carol?” I finally ask. “Won’t she miss you while you’re away?” Carol, Bobby’s mom, is half of the reason I stayed with him as long as I did.
“You kiddin’? You know how much my mom loves you. She threw my ass out the door when I told her I was gonna come see you.”
I smile softly, because he’s right. And I miss her. Her soothing words and the genuine southern charm she brought with her from Texas. Her warm hugs, fresh squeezed lemonade, sandy blonde hair that’s always straying from her hair tie. Ugh, this dinner is stirring up more than I bargained for. Now I’m the one with my knee bouncing beneath the table. My eyes dart toward the back exit. It’s only about fifteen feet from here to there. I bet if I wait for him to get distracted again, I can slip quietly from my seat and—
“Don’t even think about it.” Bobby’s eyes are aimed straight at me, squinted enough to suggest he saw every step of the silent plan playing out in my head.
“What?” I blink, chewing my steak.
“You know what. It’s just dinner.”
I try to relax again and give him a nod that I hope says,Duh, I totally know that.
“For now,” he adds with a smirk.
I kick his foot lightly under the table, and he laughs.
The rest of dinner glides by, and by the time our check comes back for him to sign, I realize I’m feeling a little too at home with my ex. There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes that oddly reminds me of Claire with their open hopefulness. It makes me shift in my seat, my uncertainty from earlier quickly returning.
“Here,” I say, reaching into my clutch and withdrawing enough cash to cover my portion. I set the bills before him.
He glances down at the cash, then back at me. “You’re not paying.”
