"Is that his thing?"
"Yeah. He hates everything. He was never a jolly guy, but he's been especially miserable since his ex walked out on him. You two could commiserate on that front." If the breakup thing isn't bullshit.
Tension spreads through my upper back.
I don't like her lying to me.
But I shouldn't care.
This is casual. There's nothing about full disclosure in our agreement. I don't have any rights to her secrets.
So why the fuck do I want them this badly?
"You're really into this whole ten step thing," she says.
"Told you. It's different. Interesting."
"I get that. But I don't need anyone walking me through it. I'm a grown-up. I can find my own new things to do and make my own friends."
"Iris, you have me all wrong."
"Do I?"
"My motives are far less pure."
She raises a brow.
"It's not about helping you find yourself."
"It's not?"
"No. It's about checking out your ass in yoga pants."
"What if I hike in sweat pants?"
"Fuck. Didn't consider that possibility."
She laughs. "This is why methodical works. Besides, you can check out my ass naked anytime."
"Yeah. Or I could do both."
"Hmm. Persuasive."
"You don't want to go, say so. It won't hurt my feelings."
"Not at all?"
My smile spreads over my cheeks. "You like thinking of me wounded."
"Maybe." She scoops a piece of salmon into her mouth, chews, swallows. "You swear your motives are all located south of your waist?"
"On my right hand."
She shakes her head.
"That isn't enough?"
"Nope."