Page 83 of ClickBack

I lift my head.

“I was happy for you,” she adds. “Then I went back to the stove and started wondering whether I’d see you next week. Or next month. I hadn’t let myself think about it that way.”

“I wasn’t planning to leave you here and forget where I found you.”

“I don’t think that.” Her fingers move along the seam of my shorts. “But I’m a little relieved we don’t have to work it out tonight. I wish that didn’t come at your expense.”

I look at her. She has given me an answer I don’t know what to do with, except believe it. I have spent half the evening wanting to go and the other half looking at her whenever somebody said how soon.

“I wanted to call my brother,” I say.

“You still can.”

“Not with this.”

She lets that stand. On television, somebody is arguing about a pick. I reach for the remote on the counter above us and mute it.

“I hate being this pissed off when you’re here.”

“Would you rather I only came over when you’re in a good mood?”

“You’d miss some time.”

“I gathered.”

I laugh despite myself. Giselle turns so she can see me better, one leg folded beneath her. There is a red mark on her forearm where she leaned against the counter earlier. I rub it with my thumb.

“You don’t have to entertain me,” she says.

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

I look away, then back. She isn’t accusing me. That makes it harder to dodge.

“I’m used to being useful.”

“You were useful yesterday. You put my cabinet back together.”

“Eventually.”

“After the second trip to Lowe’s.”

“You said we weren’t talking about that.”

She smiles and puts her hand against my cheek. “I still wanted you here before you fixed it.”

I cover her hand. All night I’ve been calculating what somebody is willing to give up for me. She is sitting on my kitchen floor, looking at me like she already knows.

“You see me,” I say.

Her expression changes. “I’m trying to. You make me work for some of it.”

“I’ve heard.”

“The first day, I thought you were beautiful. You remember?”

“I remember everything you said about how I look.”