But he hadn’t anticipated it being painful as well.
CHAPTER TEN
There’s no indignity in ending a
relationship—as long as you’re
doing the ending.
—Brynn Dalton’s Rules for an
Exemplary Life, #44
Brynn had barely had time to take off her shoes after a particularly hellish day of removing braces when there was a knock at the front door.
She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to prepare herself for the confrontation. She wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to see Will again. It had been three days since their surprisingly amiable day of shopping together.
Three days since that…moment in the car. Three days since she’d thought he was going to kiss her.
Three days since she’d wanted him to.
Three days to feel guilty about wanting it.
And as though her guilt had some sort of beckoning power, it wasn’t Will on the other side of the door.
“James!”
“You sound surprised,” he said with a small smile. He looked every bit as exhausted as she felt; she was oddly reassured by the tension around his eyes and the strained smile. It reminded her that they were the same. Serious adults with grown-up jobs. Not playboy entrepreneurs who spent all day working on their six-packs and flirting with the recently divorced Tammy Henderson across the street.
Not that she’d been spying or anything.
“Well, I am a little surprised,” she admitted, standing aside to let him in. “You haven’t exactly been returning my calls.”
Calls she’d made out of guilt. Out of need for a reminder that she should not be even close to thinking about kissing Will Thatcher.
“Sorry,” he said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Terry has the flu, so I’ve been on call for five days straight.”
Brynn made the appropriate sympathetic noises as she pulled a bottle of Pinot Noir off the wine rack and poured them both a glass before joining him on the couch.
“You want to order in?” she asked. “Or I could make some carbonara? I have some of that good pancetta.”
He shook his head slightly, taking a healthy swallow of wine. And then another. “I can’t stay long.”
Brynn frowned in confusion. “You drove all the way over in rush hour, and you’re not sticking around for dinner? You’re the one who’s always informing me how out of the way I live.”
He didn’t respond, just took another of those big swallows before topping off his glass. Brynn’s frown deepened. James was a total wine snob. He was a big fan of what he liked to call the three Ss. Swirling, sniffing, and sipping. There was no gulping of wine in James’s world.
And he loved her carbonara.
Something was wrong.
Brynn took a small sip of wine and ordered herself not to panic. He’d said he was tired. And he was always in a bad mood after a long streak of being on call with little sleep and hurried meals. He was still in his scrubs, for God’s sake. She was worried for nothing.
She casually swung her leg over his, letting out a small sigh of relief when he didn’t shift away or push her off.
“Do you have tomorrow off?” she asked, watching his face closely. “I think I have a slow day. I could pass off a few appointments to Susan.”
“Brynn, we need to talk.”