“Could he keep up with you?” Henry asks with a smirk.
Henry’s a solid skier, but he didn’t learn until he was in middle school. I’ve been skiing since I was a child. Henry can’t keep up with me, and I always end up skiing ahead and waiting for him—and getting cold. I didn’t have that problem with Clay.
I smile, but then immediately feel sad. I really thought he might call me.
“He stayed right with me, and on our last run, I took him over trees and rocks off the trail. He was also quick-thinking enough to get us inside the lodge. I mean, we hadjustgotten inside when a giant boulder and a ton of snow came crashing down where we’d been standing.”
“How did you stay warm?”
I give him a look and a saucy grin. “How do you think? He was hot, there was a fireplace, and he saved my life. What would you have done?”
He snorts. “Probably not what you did, since I’m straight.”
I grin. “It was incredible.”
“I bet anything would have been incredible. It had been ages since you scratched that itch.”
I roll my eyes. “He scratched that itch several times, and he was definitely not selfish.”
“When are you going to see him again?” Henry drains his glass of wine and signals for a second.
I shake my head. “We had plans to eat together on Thanksgiving, but when Mom wanted to leave early, I left him my contact information. I haven’t heard from him, though.” I sigh. “It’s only been a few days, so who knows? He may not even be back from the mountains yet.”
Henry surveys me. “I don’t know. Seems like you two had a good connection. I would think you’d have heard from him by now.”
I nod. “I thought we connected. But if he’s not into me, I won’t force it.”
“You and your one-date wonders.” He shakes his head. “You’re fantastic. Someone will eventually figure it out.”
I smile. “Thank you. I hope so.” I take a sip of my wine and look at Henry. He’s getting some attention from around the bar, as he’s built like a basketball player. I would never tell him this, but he’s really not that athletic. He just looks the part. I like a guy who isn’t always glued to a game on the television.
After a minute, Henry looks at his phone. “Text from Patrice?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes. I’m meeting her later. If Clay doesn’t call, how are you going to find him?”
I shrug. “If he’s not into me, I won’t chase him. He works for a security firm, but I’ve already checked, and there are more than two dozen of those in San Francisco. Anyway, who knows if it’s a real security firm or just a bunch of former military guys who do secret stuff for millionaires in the Bay Area.”
He tilts his head. “Now you don’t sound that into him. Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t get in touch.”
I bristle. “We talked about you.”
“You did?” Henry leans forward.
“I told him how we met and how close we are.”
“Did he have a problem with you having a guy as a best friend?”
“Not really. But he kept insisting you wanted to sleep with me.”
Henry says nothing at first and my pulse picks up, but then he throws his head back and laughs. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“He’s so not in touch with himself,” Henry says after a moment, though he doesn’t meet my eyes. “Men and women can be friends and not want to sleep together.”
“So true,” I say with a smile. “And maybe he hasn’t thought about me twice since that day.” That would be in line with the player I’m sure he is.
“Now for the tough conversation,” Henry says, clearing his throat. “How bad was the break-in at your place?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve spoken with the police, and unless they rappelled down from the roof, there’s no telling how they got in. You don’t see them on any of the cameras.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would they go to all that trouble to take my costume jewelry? Maybe they got the wrong place or something.”