Page 79 of Detectives in Love
“You shouldn’t.” I offer a small smile, trying to put her at ease. “You didn’t know.”
“Can you at least tell me about her?” she asks, crossing her arms. “Or I’m going to die of embarrassment.”
I let out a faint laugh and glance away, my face warming. God, it feels like high school all over again—Monica asking who I was always texting, and me brushing it off like I had some big secret, when really, there was nothing.
I shouldn’t lie to Katie. If I do, I’ll just end up feeding my lovesick brain something else to latch onto—when it’s painfully clear there’s nothing between Xavier and me but wishful thinking.
“She’s smart and beautiful, right?” Katie smiles, fidgeting with a sugar packet. “Come on, tell me. I’ve always wondered who’d steal Newt Doherty’s heart…”
I laugh, cringing inside. God, I’ve backed myself into a corner. I can’t say there’s no one—that’d sound like a lie and just make things worse.
Katie watches me closely, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Do I know her?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, keeping it vague.
“You’re blushing like crazy,” she says, amused. “Must be serious.”
I look away and nod, heart pounding.
She takes a sip of coffee, then says, “You probably think I’m silly and desperate.”
“No, don’t be ridiculous.” I shake my head.
“For a while, I regretted how things ended between us,” she says, lowering her gaze. “When I ran into you the other day, I thought maybe it meant something…” She trails off, then adds, a little softer, “Not trying to guilt you or anything. I just didn’t expect it to feel like this.”
I smile. “I know. And I’m sorry. I should’ve been more upfront.”
We go quiet again. Katie’s still fidgeting with the sugar packet, and it finally tears—white grains spilling across the table. I watch them scatter, grasping for something to say.
“Have you been together long?” she asks after a moment.
“Yes. No. Not really.” I offer a lopsided smile at her confused look. “It’s…complicated.”
She nods. “Yeah. I get it. It always is with the good ones.”
I just smirk and let that slide. We sip our coffee in silence, the moment stretching a beat too long.
Then I say, “Fred and I are hanging out tomorrow. Probably just at my place, because…” I stop myself before mentioning the paparazzi. I’m not sure if she’s seen the headlines, and I’d rather keep it that way. “You should come too,if you want,” I add, trying to ease the tension. “We’ll eat, drink, remember the good old days—”
Her face lights up, clearly relieved that this doesn’t have to be weird. “I’d love to.”
“Great. Drop by around six. Hickory Road, 17, second floor, apartment 39.”
She pulls out her phone and types in the address. “Will your girlfriend be there?” she asks—then quickly adds, “Kidding. But I am curious.”
I smirk. “Probably not. She’s a workaholic.”
“Ah, I see,” Katie says, giving me a knowing look.
We chat about nothing for a while. I think about bringing up Rishetor, but it feels too soon—like I’d be using her, right after turning her down. Better to save that conversation for tomorrow.
The rest of our lunch goes more smoothly, though the awkwardness from the kiss still lingers between us. When Katie checks her watch and suggests we get the bill, I feel nothing but relief. I cover it despite her protests—it feels like the least I can do after shutting her down like that.
Outside, the snow has finally let up. We walk side by side toward the Independence Monument, our boots crunching softly through the slush.
Before we part, she pulls me into a hug. Just as I start to let go, she leans in and plants a quick, awkward kiss on my cheek. “Sorry if I made things weird,” she mumbles.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say with a small smile.
