Page 19 of Situationship
He had spent most of his teen years fantasizing about Teagan Bianchi naked. All it took, though, was one kiss for him to fall so hard, the landing wrecked him.
He was older now, wiser. Attuned to his weakness for commitment-phobes hiding in girl-next-door clothing, which was why he followed a strict regimen when it came to women. It did not include complicated entanglements. Then what the heck was he doing flirting with fire?
She swallowed nervously, followed by an uncertain smile, which made his chest pinch. And that right there was the problem. He had a habit of letting his guard down around Teagan. A dangerous habit he thought he’d broken.
He hadn’t always been a cynic. BA—Before Amanda—he was an open guy who laughed and took pleasure in the small things. AD—After Divorce—he’d become closed off and distant, even with his brother. Then after his mom passed a few years ago, he’d been lost. Now Teagan was back on his radar, and it was the first time AD that he’d smiled at a woman with returned interest.
A clear sign to steer clear of anything other than a neighborly wave or asking for a cup of sugar, which was why his flirting had caught him off guard. She looked as spooked as he should have felt because she said, “Be right back,” and burned rubber out his kitchen.
In the laundry room, he grabbed a T-shirt that smelled clean enough.“Then we’ll be even?”he mumbled to himself. “You’re an idiot.”
An idiot who’d clearly been out of the dating pool too long. Good thing he wasn’t planning on diving in anytime soon. His brother would tell him he needed to get laid. Maybe he should. As long as it was a single woman with no complications from his past, he’d consider it.
He found the kitchen empty again. Ovens empty. No bread, no Teagan, just sandy footprints from the door to the far counter. He also found Purrsnickety and Purrito sitting in front of their food bowls, glaring at him for daring to talk to another human before their morning feeding. He put a scoop of kibble in each bowl and gave them fresh water.
His kitchen was still short one baker. He was about to chalk the entire exchange up to sleep deprivation when she walked through the door, holding three additional trays, stacked in her hands, one on top of the other, with none of them touching.
Another baking skill her grandma had passed down. During the summer, when his family stayed at their beach house, Colin worked part-time at Bread N Butter. He’d claimed he was saving up for a car, but really it was all about the beautiful blond girl-next-door. By the time his family returned to the city, he’d fallen hard. But with a hundred-ish miles between them, they’d agreed to leave the relationship undefined. But every summer, they picked up where they’d left off. Until the last summer, when she’d picked up and moved on without even saying goodbye.
“Thanks again and . . .” She put the new trays in and was about to finish that thought when her phone pinged. She checked the screen and let out a long breath.
“Do you need to get that?”
“Yes,” she said, but her tone said the exact opposite. He knew that voice, had used it for the first few years after his divorce. She quickly responded, three words by his guesstimation, then set her cell on the counter—screen down. “Sorry, it was the girls’ dad.”
He didn’t think she understood how she distanced herself from her ex by using the impersonal title, but he did. It had taken him a hell of a lot longer to extinguish hope that Amanda would come around—if not for him, for Maddie.
Good on you, Teagan.
“Not a problem.” And then, because he would have wanted someone to get the awkwardness out in the open if the situation were reversed, he said, “And sorry about Frank.”
Horror and humiliation flashed over her face. “How did you hear about Frank?”
“Harley.” Screw getting it out in the open—his answer seemed to piss her off. “I didn’t think—”
Only Teagan was gone again. Lips pursed, eyes narrowed into two slits, she marched out the door. He waited for a long minute, and when she didn’t return, he set the timer for twenty minutes, started the coffee, and kicked the door shut.
He’d just pulled up a stool to the counter and was sipping his coffee, with an extra mug for her, when the door reopened. No knock. No apology. She was all business.
“Harley apologizes for sharing my personal information.” She picked up the extra mug and took a sip. “It won’t happen again.”
“Noted and understood.” He wasn’t the only one who didn’t like to talk about exes. Nobody understood the need for privacy better than Colin.
If she wanted to keep her own counsel, that was fine with him. Because then he didn’t have to talk about Amanda.
“She also apologized for ruining two batches of dough.” She sat across the counter from him. “Oh, and to let you know that if you want to join her beach yoga class, she’ll give you a ten percent discount.”
“That’s very neighborly of her.”
She took another sip, then stopped. Embarrassment tinting her cheeks, she held up the mug. “Thisis very neighborly. I should have thanked you for the coffee as soon as I walked through the door.” She dropped her head to the counter. “I also should have knocked before barging in. I’m having a morning.”
“That seems to be happening a lot.”
“It’s just that I wanted today to go perfectly, and my rolls are—” She leapt up. “My rolls!”
“I set the timer. You have eleven minutes left.”
“How did you know the bake time?”
