Jake dunked a fry in ketchup and considered. “I’ve never really understood at what point a woman stops becoming someone you’re casually dating and actually becomes a girlfriend.”
Grace put an offended hand over her chest. “Clearly you haven’t been reading Stiletto. This is exactly the sort of thing we analyze. In detail.”
“No doubt. But to answer your question … I dunno. Maybe one true girlfriend? Lasted about four months?”
Grace grinned and stole a fry. “Seems to me that was my precise assessment of you that first day in the cab.”
“Weird. I wonder if there’s a trophy shop around here so we can get you a little memento to savor your lone victory.”
She just grinned at him before grabbing another fry.
“What about you?” he asked. “Nothing serious before or after the cheating douche bag, right?”
“Well, it’s only been four months. Long enough to move on, but not long enough to get back in the saddle. Not that I want to. And before Greg, there were a couple dance dates and kisses in high school, but Greg … he was the one, you know?”
“Obviously not.”
“Obviously,” Grace muttered.
He was watching her. “Do you miss him?”
Grace chewed thoughtfully. Did she miss Greg? “I miss … someone,” she said finally. “I know this probably sounds like I’m single-handedly rolling back the women’s movement, but I liked taking care of someone, you know? Being that other half?”
“Would you take him back if he asked?”
She hated this question. Didn’t even ask it of herself. She wanted to say no. Grace 2.0 pretty much demanded that she tattoo no on her bicep. But the other part of her … the romantic part of her wondered about forgiveness.
Couples did come back from infidelity. People did forgive.
She just didn’t know if she was one of them.
And then there was the even more alarming fact that she was thinking about Greg less and less lately. The fact that she was no longer even remotely sure that he’d been the love of her life.
“Can I pass on that one?” she said.
Jake’s jaw tightened briefly, and she thought she was about to get the lecture on how Greg was garbage.
Instead he gave her a half smile. “Sure.”
Grace thought about protesting when Jake ordered a chocolate torte for them to split, but whom was she kidding? She had a weakness for dessert.
A weakness for dessert? 2.0 taunted. Or a weakness for Jake?
If she was honest, this lunch was the best time she’d had in a long while. She and Jake had all of the easy comfort that she and Greg had once had, but unlike in conversations with Greg, she never found herself tuning out when Jake spoke.
She tried to tell herself it was probably just a function of Jake being new. Maybe she and Greg had simply reached that level of familiarity where it was okay to tune out the other person once in a while.
But she couldn’t ever remember laughing this much with Greg, or so easily sharing every thought that came into her head, no matter how random.
Not even at the beginning.
Jake held out a bite of dessert across the table, and she hesitated before taking it, her eyes scanning the room, automatically wondering how the gesture might be interpreted. Too interested? Too clichéd?
His gaze shadowed briefly. “There’s no one here, Grace. Just me.”
“Yeah, I seem to remember we’ve both played that line before, only to have the private moment all over the blogosphere,” she said before neatly cleaning the bite of torte off the fork.
“Not all private moments,” he said, taking a bite for himself. “Neither one of us has made those kisses public. Why do you think that is?”