Page 57 of Until Then

Brooks shrugs. “I only keep him on because of Tilly and the kids.”

Tilly. Patrick’s wife. She has MS and hasn’t been able towork in years. Not since her pain got so bad and she lost so much mobility.

“He’s a piece of shit,” I say anyway, keeping my voice low.

Brooks stuffs a handful of fries into his mouth, though it does little to hide his smile.

“That he is. I’m glad you came, though.”

“Yeah,” I say, surveying the plates full of appetizers littering the table. “I… me, too.”

I pick at the label on my bottle. Honestly, I’d rather be at home right now, lounging on the couch with Izzy and Wonton, watchingGilmore Girlsand wearing a face mask. But I can’t say that. I shouldn’t eventhinkit. Not that there’s anything wrong with hanging on the couch with her. The issue is what that statement would imply. That Ilikeher. Probably more than I should.

And that?

It’s terrifying for many reasons.

I stayedout longer than I planned—possibly in an effort to prove to myself that Icouldgo out and have fun. But to be honest, not one ounce of joy was had.

Quietly, I unlock the front door and ease it open. When I step inside, I find Izzy curled up on the couch with Wonton in the crook of her legs.

The door squeaks as I close it behind me, the sound waking Wonton. His eyes shoot open and fill with terror when they lock on me.

Oh, fuck.

The little dog launches himself up onto the back of thecouch and then ontome. I catch him easily and hold him at arm’s length while he growls and snaps and barks.

Izzy jolts awake and rolls off the couch. In the background, on the TV, Netflix asks if she’s still watching.

“Jesus.” Sitting now, she slaps a hand against her chest. “Way to scare a girl.”

“I was going to sneak past so I wouldn’t disturb you, but this one didn’t let me.”

Wonton, maybe realizing it’s me now that he’s heard the sound of my voice, has settled, so I tuck him under my arm and shut the door. Izzy still hasn’t gotten up, so I move around to where she’s on the floor and offer a hand. “Need some help?”

“I need a minute. My heart is racing.”

I grimace. Dammit. I didn’t mean to scare her. I assumed she’d already be in bed, so I didn’t call or send a message to give her a heads-up, worrying that if I did, I’d wake her up. I guess that would’ve been a better alternative than this.

Finally, she takes my hand and lets me haul her up. “I could go for some water.”

“Water, sure. I can get you some.”

I guide her back onto the couch and set Wonton on her lap. Then I pad into the kitchen, fill a glass with about the amount of ice she likes, add water.

“Thanks,” she says softly when I return and extend the glass to her. “Did you have a good night?”

With a sigh, I settle on the coffee table in front of her. I’m so close I could count the flecks of color in her eyes.

She cocks a brow and takes a small sip. “I take it the answer is no.”

I shake my head. “I’m just… out of practice, I guess.”

“With socializing?” Her laughter has the water shakingprecariously in the glass. When she notices, she flashes me a sheepish smile.

“If you want to call it that. It’s not that I never go out, but when I do, I find I don’t enjoy it like I thought I would. I’d rather be at home. Unless—” I press my lips together, shutting myself up.

“Unless what?” She prompts, leaning forward to set the glass beside me. I have to tip my chin up to avoid staring straight down her tank top. “Oh.” She presses a hand to her chest and straightens, her cheeks getting the softest shade of pink in the lowlight. “Unless you’re picking up a woman.”

---