“Laugh.”
I traced the label on my beer, smiling a little. “You’re getting bold.”
“Is that a problem?”
I didn’t respond as I peeled the label off because I wasn’t sure if it was.
“You want some air?” he asked after several beats.
I looked at him for a second, then stood. “Sure.”
The patio was cooler and quieter. A few people were outside smoking near the railing, but most of the noise stayed inside.
Bradford rested his forearms on the railing. “You’re a lot easier to read out here.”
“Oh yeah? What am I thinking, then?”
His eyes roamed over my face, slow enough that I felt it. “You’re having fun. And you’re trying not to think about what happens if this keeps going.”
I let out a short breath. “That obvious?”
“To me, yeah.”
I looked out toward the parking lot, my fingers tightening around the bottle. “You’re not wrong.”
He went quiet for a second. “You do this a lot?”
“Do what?”
“Get interested, get close to something good, then pull back.”
I didn’t answer right away, as I tried to decide if I wanted to lie. Finally, I said, “Sometimes.”
“Because you’re not looking for anything serious?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
I could’ve handled his question in many ways. Most of them were easier than telling the truth. I chose to be honest anyway. “There was someone.”
“Back home?”
“Yeah.”
“You still hung up on him?”
I didn’t reply.
He looked away for a second and exhaled. “Got it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It usually isn’t.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m not out here trying to waste your time.”
“I know.”
