“Exactly! Do you think you can pull off being a bad boyfriend for a couple of days?”
Things suddenly aren't quite as amusing. “Do you want emotionally distant? Sexually selfish? Unambitious and occasionally drunk? Because those, I’ve done.”
Her pretty mouth drops open, and I realize I’ve been a tad too honest.
“Ha,” I say quickly. “Joking. I’m not that guy anymore.” Thank God. Me today would kick nineteen-year-old me’s ass. That guy sucked, and every girl who broke up with him was right to do it.
But Darby looks thoughtful. “Those aren’t terrible ideas, actually.”
“No.” I say it quickly, but I don’t ever want to be that aimless, angry guy again. “I can be a much better bad boyfriend than that. Let’s see… I can spoil the ending of every movie your family brings up while I’m there. I can hit on your sisters. I can derail the Christmas dinner conversation by explaining that birds aren’t real. I can—”
“Wait.” Darby makes a buzzer sound and holds her hand up. “Birds aren’t real?”
“Definitely not,” I say. “They’re battery-operated government drones. You see—”
Another buzzer sound, but it trails off in a giggle. “Save it for Christmas dinner. That’s great.”
She rests her hand on her chest, her slim fingers fluttering at the base of her throat. She’s wearing a fuzzy white sweater, and I can’t stop thinking about running my hands over it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Is there any way I can ask her to pack it for our week together?
“What else?” she asks.
I tip my head to the ceiling, back on task. “Whatever political persuasion your parents are, I can take the opposite position.”
She snorts softly, then claps her hand over her mouth. This is a woman who needs to snort-laugh more.
“So what should we say you do for work?”
I shoot her a grin. “I’m a dentist, actually.”
Her eyes widen and then drop to my wrist. She's looking at my ink and clearly trying to reconcile the dentist life with the tattoo life. I cluck my tongue over her lack of imagination. When she starts to stutter an apology, I can't hold back my laugh anymore. “I'm fucking with you. But you know, they let dentists get tattoos.”
More pink in her cheeks, but at least she’s laughing along this time. “Okay, so we’re not going with the dentist thing. What should we say?”
I shrug. “I got my GED this spring, and I’m hoping to open a landscaping business with my friend Jonesy next year.”
She beams at me. “That’s perfect! Oh, my mother willhatethat.”
Well, isn’t that a bucket of cold fucking water.
“Cool,” I say stiffly. “Glad she won’t approve.”
Darby’s still chuckling as she flips her hair over her shoulder. “So what do you do really? Faith didn’t say.”
“I got my GED this spring, and I’m hoping to open a landscaping business with my friend Jonesy next year.” I meet her gaze, and this time her blush isn’t as cute.
“I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”
I wave a dismissive hand, even though I know the sting of her amusement will sit with me for a little bit. “It’s okay. No self-respecting adult has a friend named Jonesy.”
She laughs a little, but it’s not like before, and Christ, now I feel bad that she feels bad.
“Hey, would you rather see if Jonesy wants to be your fake boyfriend? I can give him a call.” When I stand to pull my phone from my pocket, her eyes take their time traveling down my body. Interesting. Does the fuzzy-sweatered librarian like what she sees?
“That’s okay,” she says quickly. “Better the devil you know.”
“I can get a little naughty, if that’s what you want,” I say with a wink.
I didn’t mean that to sound quite so sexual, but when Darby’s breath hitches in her chest, it stops my breath too, knowing my words affected her like that.
