Page 15 of The Heartbreak List

“He’s a sports agent. He reps a couple of the Rockets.”

“Fucking hockey players?” I sit up straighter. “Are you serious? That’s what he does for a living? Dream job, right there.”

She nods. “It’s definitely his. Is that what you’d want to do if you weren’t tending bar?”

“I actually love tending bar. It’s therapy and a party rolled into one. Well, for the people who come into the bar it can be like therapy. I’ve heard some amazing stories and sent many a poor man home to make up with his girl.” I rest my elbows on the table and lean closer.

“You’re certainly a good listener.” She glances down at her lap and her pale cheeks gain some color. “Thank you for the other night.”

“You don’t need to blush.” I pick up my coffee, which is no longer so hot it could burn the hairs out of a Yeti’s nostril. “All I did was listen.”

“It’s embarrassing.” She rubs at her nose and moans low in her throat. “I was a mess.”

I reach across the table and tip her chin up so that our gazes lock. I’m uncomfortably aware that I’m touching her, and I shouldn’t be. It prickles in my ribcage with every breath. “You were going through your darkest hour, and you needed a friend. I was there.”

Her eyes grow bright as I sit back. She blinks back the emotions and rubs her lips together. “Are we friends, Theo? Is that what we are?”

“Do you want us to be friends, Indy?” I brush my thumb over a nick in the table. If I do it enough times, perhaps I’ll be able to rub it out of existence. And perhaps if I agree to be friends with the dying girl, I won’t wonder how she’s doing all the time.

“I’d like that.” She smiles. “But I’m afraid you’ll be the one getting the bum end of this friendship.”

“What? Because you’re more than likely going to die soon?” I could try to sugar coat things, but I don’t believe Indy would appreciate it.

“I probably only have six months. Maybe less.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’ll miss me when I’m gone.” Her gaze is playful but brittle.

“There’s a chance that I’ll think about you from time to time.” But I’m already doing that, and this isn’t my first foray into losing someone. I can handle it if all the radiation and drugs doesn’t change her prognosis. It’s not like it’ll destroy my entire world.

Her phone rings and she digs through her bag in search of it. She dumps the cupcake, and the book she bought, and a notepad on the table before she finally finds her phone. She manages to answer it before whoever is on the other end hangs up. “Hey, Mom.”

She turns in her chair so that she’s angled away from me as she speaks to the other woman. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

I pick up the notepad she tossed out on the table. The top page is titled “My Bucket List” and has been numbered. So far there isn’t much on it.

Get a tattoo.

Dye my hair a crazy color.

Visit an adult store.

“I ran into a friend,” she tells her mom. “I’m on my way now.”

“What’s this?” I hold the notepad out of reach as she stands and starts gathering her stuff.

“It was what you said the other night. About how rescuing a damsel in distress was on your bucket list…” She snatches it out of my hand and tosses it into her bag.

“Shit, I didn’t mean that.” There’s no way I would ever willingly go out of my way to find a woman in need of a rescue to check it off like an accomplishment. “It’s one of those things people say…”

“Yes, I understand that.” She pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder as I rise to my feet. “The future that I thought I would have is… over. But there are still things that I want to do. Experiences I want to have. So I started a bucket list. I spent so long living for my future, I need to spend whatever time I have left living in the now. Doing everything I put off or thought didn’t fit.”

“When do we start?” I ask.

Her expression slackens. “Start?”

“Marking things off your list. You’re going to need a friend to help you come up with awesome once in a lifetime experiences, and to be there while you get that tattoo, right?”

---