Page 42 of When the Smoke Clears

She stares at the empty plate while picking at her fingernails, a rare glimpse of her that’s not the controlled doctor with gently folded hands and a well-practiced neutral expression.

“Burnout is real. Balance is important.” She smiles, holding up her phone. “So I listen to fantasy novels because they’re an escape. And I attempt to have sex with random men. And when I get lonely, I come to IHOP for a short stack.”

“Name one random man you’ve slept with, because I don’t believe you ever have. And I don’t think you were going to earlier at the bar.”

“I slept with a random firefighter. It was years ago.”

Our gazes lock, but I look away first and slide out of the booth. “Don’t you have a date on Fortnite at eleven?”

“I do.” She stands, slipping her AirPods into her purse along with her phone. Then she straightens her dress. “And I need a pair of underwear.”

“Agree to disagree,” I say.

She wrinkles her nose at me before I lead the way to the door.

“Can I get a ride home?” I ask, holding it open for her.

“What do I get in return?” She flips her hair over her shoulder while I watch her sexy legs and ass in that short dress. “How about you tell your friends that after a little self-reflection, you’ve decided I’m pretty awesome, and you want me to stay in your shed while my house is being built?” She opens her door and disappears into her car.

I slide into the passenger seat. “I’m a terrible liar. They’ll never believe that.”

“You’re right. You are terrible.” She starts her car and turns up the music. It’s reminiscent of a classical song, but like Beethoven played by a heavy metal band.

When we get home, it’s just after ten thirty.

“Think your mom is still awake?” I unbuckle.

“No. Why? Are you wanting to make her an offer for the painting?”

I open my door. “Tempting, but no.” I meet Everleigh on the driver’s side just as she shuts her door and locks it. “I shouldn’t have stopped you from having sex with the football player. I was out of line, and I apologize.”

She slides her purse strap onto her shoulder. “You didn’t stop me. You expressed your jealousy, and after careful consideration, I chose to abstain so you wouldn’t lose sleep over another man being with me.”

“Whoa. What? No.” I laugh. “I told you I was looking out for you, not me.”

“Since when did you make it your job to look out for me?”

“I never said it was my job. More of a . . .” I glance around because she’s practiced in staring at people for long periods of time, and it’s creepy. “It was a courtesy since we’re roommates. Nothing I wouldn’t have done for Maren or Jamie when they lived here.”

“So it doesn’t bother you to imagine me getting railed in the bathroom by a football player?”

“Jesus.” I shake my head. “Is this how you talk to your patients?”

“You’re not my patient. You can’t—”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know. I can’t afford you.” I turn and head toward the back door. “For the record, I don’t imagine you having sex, so I’m obviously not bothered by anything you do. Good night.”

“I’ll be inside soon. Don’t forget I’m playing Fortnite at eleven.”

“It’s my PlayStation, and I’m playing tonight, so too bad.”

“You’re not even supposed to be here.” She jogs after me. “And I told you I was playing.”

“Well, I’m here, and now I’m fucking playing.” I reach for the doorknob just as she grabs my arm.

“Let’s be honest. It’s past your bedtime, old man.”

I slowly turn. “What the fuck did you just call me? Old man?”