Page 24 of Flirting with 40

“Would it matter?”

His question throws me. “No. Why?”

“Just asking,” he says as if I just passed a test I wasn’t aware I was taking. “It’s the truth. I’m in the middle of my cardiac residency, hence the shitty penmanship,” he says, motioning to his handwriting on the napkin before averting his eyes to his hands for a beat. “I’m on sabbatical for the time being and am bored to tears.” There is a soft tug on one corner of his mouth that clears whatever emotion it is out of his eyes.

“That bad, huh?”

“You can only stare at so many textbooks and rewrite so many articles before your eyes want to burn out of their sockets.” His chuckle is soft.

“Is there a medical term for that?” I ask.

“No, but I’m serious, and we have a list to tackle. Why are you so hesitant to say yes?”

“For a lot of reasons . . . I just can’t. You’ve already done more than enough.”

Kelsie is going to kill me.

“This is coming from the same woman who’s sitting in a bar with me to prove to her ex that we’re a legitimate couple, right?”

“Guilty,” I say and offer a shy smile.

The answer is always yes.

I study him unabashedly. I take in his easy nature and charming smile, his drop-dead gorgeous looks, and how it feels as if I’ve known him forever . . . and I tell myself it’ll never happen.

Him. This. Pretend boyfriend. None of it.

“Just like that? You’d decide to accompany a random stranger on a company retreat for no other reason than you’re bored? I mean . . . that’s odd to me.”

“Maybe to you it’s odd, but where I come from, in my circle of friends, we’d do it for each other in a heartbeat.”

My smile widens and then falters as I try to convince myself of all the reasons I should thank him and then leave. “You’re lucky to have that, but—”

“Or maybe it’s as simple as there’s something about you that makes me want to get to know you better. Maybe it’s that side of you that peeks through when you aren’t trying to figure out who to be and you just are. I want to know her better . . . and maybe, maybe it’s as simple as I like you, Blake.”

After everything I went through with Paul, I should take the compliments, the kind words, and let them fill all of the dark places my divorce emptied, but it’s so much easier to refute them than accept them. So much easier to hide in the depths of my insecurities than to really hear his words.

I open my mouth, and my sarcasm gets me in trouble.

“Well, I like ice cream, too, but that doesn’t mean that I’d jump at a chance to go and lick every cone my mouth comes in contact with.” That sounded way worse than I meant it to, and I blush fifty shades of red at how stupid I sound. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

His lopsided grin is like summer and sunshine, and where the hell did that Hallmark-card comment come from? Jesus. A man tells me he likes me, and I turn it into licking ice cream and dying of embarrassment.

“Licking is never bad, huh?” He takes a long glance at my lips before coming back to my eyes. There’s desire darkening in his gaze, and of course, my brain scrambles over what to say so I can at least sound witty. “Does that mean you do or you don’t like me, then?”

“No. I didn’t say that.” So much for trying to sound intelligent. “I like you. A lot.” For the love of God, stop talking. “Or what I know of you.” I’m rambling. “It’s more that . . . I mean, I just don’t understand.” I’m making an idiot out of myself. “Why would you even . . . people just don’t do that.”

Silence falls over our table when I finally stop talking, and everything and anything is more interesting to look at than Slade. Anything.

The burgundy logo on the to-do list napkin. His fingers playing over the base of his glass . . .

The silence stretches until I look back up and meet those light bluish-gray irises of his.

“Some people do.” His voice is soft, and the amusement in his eyes is taunting. “What would it hurt? You get to save face with the ex and also show the new boss you’re there to play her game.”

I shake my head. “I know they say never look a gift horse in the mouth, but . . .”

“Then say yes. What’s the worst that can happen? You get a friend out of the process?”