One tiny tug downward, and…
“So what’s with the midlife crisis?” he asked, taking a sip of wine and sitting in the chair across from the couch. Distance felt really important right about now.
“Why does everyone keep calling it that?” she asked with a frown. “Do you all think I’m going to die at sixty-two?”
“With all the organic shit that you eat, and nine thousand fitness classes? I doubt it.”
“I quit my job today,” she announced, taking a too-big sip of wine.
Will was careful to keep his face bland even as he felt a little flare of panic. “Oh?”
She took another sip of wine. “Well, not quit quit. Just…a sabbatical.”
He relaxed slightly. Not because he cared about whether or not she ever went back to orthodontics again, but because he didn’t want her making any decisions when she was all torn up over a guy. At least he was pretty sure that’s what it was, but damn if he’d ask. She’d come this far. She’d have to come a little bit further.
“And what do you plan to do during this sabbatical?”
She narrowed her eyes at him slightly. “You’re being nice. Why are you being nice?”
Because you’re broken. “Just checking out your new look.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at herself before running a nervous hand through her short hair. “You like it?”
“It’s different.”
Brynn held out her glass for a refill. “That’s what people say when they think something’s awful and they’re trying to be polite.”
“When have I ever been polite?” he asked.
“True. Can I have more wine? What kind is it? It’s good.”
He stood to head toward the kitchen and ignored her question. “Why is it that you seem to need to be drunk in order to be in my presence?”
“Not drunk. Although I have been having a lot of wine lately. Just…I dunno. Look, I live like twenty steps away. And if I have a little headache tomorrow, it’s not your problem.”
Will obediently went to the fridge for the bottle. Two glasses wouldn’t kill her, but no way was he going to let her get drunk. That was the easy way out.
“So when did he dump you?” he asked bluntly as he refilled her glass.
To his surprise, she didn’t even flinch. “Last Wednesday.”
He eyed her closely as he topped off his own glass. “You seem…okay with it.”
Brynn flopped back on the couch, and to his relief, she didn’t immediately dive into the wine. “Of course I’m not okay with it. I thought I was going to marry the guy.”
Something clenched in Will’s chest but he forced himself not to move. “I take it he had other plans?”
“Your way of asking if there was someone else?”
Yes. “No.”
“He didn’t cheat,” she said, looking down at her black-painted nails as though surprised they belonged to her. “But he ‘met someone.’ This crazy, dumpy woman who’s not at all his type.”
Will gave a slight nod. “Those are always the ones that get you.”
Her eyes locked on his. “Have you ever had one of those? A woman that’s not your type, I mean?”
You have no idea.