Page 73 of Act Like You Don't Care
I saw some of the tension drain out of him then and he turned back to me, a little woebegone and utterly adorable because of it. “I haven’t really had a chance to think about it. I haven’t even got a doctor yet.”
“Do you want me to ask my mother if she knows of any good ones?”
He appeared surprised, then shook his head. “Will is going to find one for me.”
I grinned. “What does Will know about obstetricians?”
He frowned and his shoulders tightened again, then he let out a breath and laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I’m just used to asking him to do things for me.” For the first time, a genuine smile peeked out on his face, still weak and uncertain, but there. “We can see what they both say and decide after?”
“I like that idea.” Cautiously, I reached out and took his hand where it lay on the table, holding it with the lightest of grips so he could remove it easily if he wanted to. “I’m glad you told me.”
He glanced down at our joined hands, gave mine a quick squeeze, then pulled his away. “I was worried you’d somehow make this into a shitshow. I should have known better. Not Miles Aral.” He picked up his fork and poked at his food, then put it down again. “I hope this part passes soon.”
“Stomach sick?” I asked sympathetically.
He nodded. “Ginger isn’t doing it.” He sipped at his water again, then pushed the plate away with an expression of bitter relief. “That’ll be the first order of business once I’ve got a doctor.” He held his hand up to get the waiter’s attention and asked for the check. “I’ve got this,” he said, pulling out a credit card.
I almost offered to pay for us both but stopped myself in time. “Thank you,” I said and pushed my plate aside too.
“You’re not going to eat?” he asked, eyeing my salad.
“Aren’t we leaving?” Yes, I was hoping for a little more time with him. Foolish of me, but he’d launched himself through all my defenses like a rocket. Even the ones I didn’t know I had. I missed him.
“You don’t have to. There’s no point in me sitting here, not eating, when I have lines to learn.”
“Is this the cyberpunk?” I stabbed a baby tomato and shoved it in my mouth, feeling it pop against my tongue as I chewed. His eyes followed my fork down to my plate with a mix of longing and nausea. “Do you think you could stomach a tomato?” I asked him.
“I don’t know. I don’t even like tomatoes, but…” Delicately, he picked one of the tiny red globes off my plate, glared at it critically, then put it in his mouth with the expression of a man about to eat a live bomb.
I watched him carefully, my meal forgotten while we waited for his stomach’s verdict on the tomato.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and he leaned back in his chair. “So far, so good,” he said in a cautious tone. “I don’t think I’ll press my luck.”
I stuck some lettuce in my mouth and chewed and watched him. The waiter came back with the check and Tam paid the bill without even really looking at it. “I have to get home, I have work to do.”
Abandoning my plate, I followed him out the door.
“Miles,” he said gently, turning to put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. “This isn’t a relationship. We’re not dating for real now. It’s just parenting, you understand?”
That hurt, but I wasn’t going to let him see that. I could act too, if I needed to. “I know. Does that mean we can’t be friends, at least a little?”
He let go of me to shove both hands into the pockets of his jacket. “We are friends. At least, I hope we are. Can you be okay with that?”
No. “Of course.”
He looked down and rocked on his heels before meeting my eyes again. “You should probably finish your meal.”
I shrugged. “You’re not the only one with work to do. Which way is your car?”
He stiffened. “Why?”
I jerked my thumb down the street to the right. “I’m parked down there. Are we splitting up here?”
His expression cleared. “Oh. Yeah, I’m around the corner on the other side of the street. I’ll walk down with you.” He turned and started down the sidewalk and I fell into step beside him.
We didn’t say much on the walk, but it still somehow felt comfortable. Tam’s stride was relaxed and while his mind seemed to be occupied elsewhere, whatever he was thinking about didn’t appear to be upsetting him.
I wondered a little how involved he would let me be, how much he’d let me look after him. Probably not much, but I’d try anyway. Just have to be careful not to overstep any of his firmly drawn lines in the sand.
