Page 33 of From Air

I clear my throat to get his attention. “Will’s been talking about either re-siding the house or a kitchen remodel. I think I will get an electric kettle for my room and eat ramen or order takeout. How about you?” I hold my breath and offer a constipated smile.

“SPAM.”

What?

One word? I’m freaking the hell out as to whether or not he heard me, and all I get is SPAM?

“You eat SPAM?”

“I do,” he says with a confident smile—too confident.

“Yum.” I roll my lips between my teeth. “Well, uh ... I’ll let you finish your shopping. See you at home.”

“I have another stop to make, so if you’re nestled in your shed by the time I get home, havesweet dreams.”

I freeze—as in, I stop breathing. My lungs stop oxygenating my blood—death by embarrassment.

My brain scrambles, body sweats. The sooner I can come up with an explanation that’s not the obvious one, the sooner I can breathe again. “Don’t look so smug. You heard one side of the conversation and took it out of context.”

His mouth purses into duck lips while his eyes narrow. “Can a sex dream be taken out of context?”

I survey our surroundings, replying in a hushed voice, “I’m on the verge of saying whatever it takes to shut you up, the way I was willing to sayanythingto shut up Melissa. So what’s it going to be, Fitz? How many times do I need to lick your ego before you let this go?”

His eyebrows make a slow ascent up his forehead. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a licker.”

“I’m not a licker.”

“No?” He cocks his head.

I groan. Not moan.Groan.“If you let this go and promise never to say another word about it, then we can be even.”

“Even?”

“Yes. Even. I still owe you for the bullshit about the thirty-day trial in the rental contract and your assery about Betty.”

“Assery? Is that a word? Is it like cantankerous?”

My eyes narrow. “Take it or leave it.”

He beams victoriously. “We’re even.”

He’s good. I’ll give him that. After a long day, I’m tired and not feeling up to the challenge. Nevertheless, there’s no way I’m rolling over on this and admitting defeat by letting him manipulate the conversation.

I can tell from the gleam in his eyes and his puffed-out chest that I willneverlive this down. Melissa is on my shit list, right next to Fitz. For that matter, I’m upset with Will and Maren, too, for thinking something’s going on when it’s not. If everyone stopped pestering me about Calvin Fitzgerald, maybe my brain would find more appropriate dreams.

Chapter Eleven

My mom used to say that humans are good. Our natural inclination is to do the right thing. Show kindness. Express love. Be pure in thought.

Pure in thought . . .

I’m struggling with that one.

Sipping hot chocolate on the sofa in my loose-fitting jeans and pink hoodie, I set up my profile on a dating app. I need a distraction from a certain someone. As soon as that thought enters my mind, that certain someone opens the door. It’s been over a week since the grocery store incident.

“Hey,” I murmur without taking my gaze off my phone.

“Hey.” Fitz carries a bag of take-out food into the kitchen.

---