subdued smile, not quite wide enough to pucker his dimples. “Yeah, I had a follow-up with my doctor this morning. I have to wear this thing for a couple more weeks, but it’s better than the cast.”
“That’s great news.”
He sat across from me and a heightened sense of anxiousness pinged through my nervous system. The hiss of milk being steamed suddenly pushed against my ears, like it had weight. I crossed my legs and fiddled with a strand of hair.
“Yep. Pretty soon I’ll be good as new.”
“Will you go back to work on light duty now?”
He nodded and there was something off about him. He wasn’t quite making eye contact.
Or maybe it was all in my head and I was just being overly sensitive.
“Do you want to order coffee or anything?” I asked.
“You know, I’m feeling pretty restless. Would you mind going for a walk?”
“Not at all. I’m sure it’s nice to be on both feet again.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
I gathered up my things and put on my coat. Gavin held the door for me, then stuck his hands in his pockets while we walked side by side. His gait was a bit lopsided, like the boot made walking awkward, and it felt odd not to hear the click of his crutches.
He didn’t say anything as we made our way up the sidewalk. A chilly breeze blew through my hair, making a strand stick to my lip gloss. I brushed it off my face, a buzz of worry zinging through me.
Was something wrong?
Or was I just being paranoid?
The silence felt as heavy as the hiss of the milk steamer in the coffee shop, and before I could stop myself, I started babbling. “Did you know a person can survive a stab wound to the gut for up to three days? That’s if they don’t get medical treatment, of course. It’s widely considered one of the worst ways to die.”
“Wow, really?”
“Sorry. I was just doing some research this morning and that popped into my head.”
“Does someone in your book get stabbed in the gut?”
“Yeah, although it doesn’t happen on the page. Their body is found later.”
I let out a breath, annoyed with myself. Why was I talking about stab wounds and dead bodies?
Why was I so anxious?
A pair of squirrels darted in front of us. It looked like one of them was carrying a candy wrapper. Or maybe it was an actual candy bar. We paused while they scampered away, running across the street.
I expected Gavin to comment on them. Everyone in town seemed to think the squirrels were little thieves, and that one had been carrying something. He didn’t find that amusing?
But he stayed quiet.
We walked across the street and into Lumberjack Park. Leaves littered the ground, crunching beneath our feet. The tension was killing me. Why weren’t we talking? I hated being the one to start a conversation—the random morbid fact I’d spewed out a minute ago being a primary reason why—but I couldn’t take it anymore.
But before I could say a word, Gavin stopped and turned so he was standing in front of me, his hands still in his coat pockets. “I think maybe we should talk.”
A sick feeling spread from the pit of my stomach. It was almost an echo of how Cullen had started the conversation when he’d broken up with me.
“Okay.”
“I really like you. But…” He hesitated, glancing down at his feet. “I think maybe things got a little out of control.”
I swallowed hard, not sure what to say. I could tell he wasn’t done, so I waited for him to continue.
“Hanging out with you is awesome and if you need me to come over while you write, I can totally do that. But the other stuff…” He paused again and he still wasn’t looking me in the eyes. “It’s not that it wasn’t good. It was. I just don’t think it’s the best idea. You’ve been through a lot recently, and I’m not really boyfriend material. I’m pretty good at a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them.”
My legs felt shaky and the sound of a car driving by crawled up my spine and settled there, making my neck knot with tension.
“So you’re saying we shouldn’t have slept together.”
It took him a second to answer. “I’m saying we shouldn’t do it again.”
I didn’t understand the fierce sadness that swept through me. Gavin wasn’t breaking up with me. We weren’t in a relationship in the first place—not like that. But somehow this felt worse than