Page 74 of Nice Guys Don't Kiss Like That At Christmas
I tilt my head up, my body betraying me with the instinct to kiss him.
My heart hammers against my ribs.This is dangerous.
But instead of kissing him, I cross my arms, tilting my head like I'm about to ask something casual."Do you still have it?The brain that looks like testicles?"
It's not casual at all, and we both know it.
"Took me hours," he murmurs."Not my first project, and definitely not my last."He’s not answering my question."Though…" His gaze drops to the Christmas Pickle in my hand."That one's got a very interesting shape too.I should make something complementary.Zucchini?Eggplant?"
Heat crawls up my neck that has nothing to do with my basal body temperature."Definitely not zucchini," I blurt out, remembering Sally's comments."Eggplant.Or banana.Baseball bat, even."
"Quite the specific preferences there, Foster."
My grip tightens on the pickle."You have no idea."
Dorothy darts by again, this time with my lacy red panties.
"Oh, for—Dorothy, drop it!"I huff, then sigh."I don't think this conversation is over, right?"
"Definitely not," he says as I wrangle Dorothy and shove the lacy red panties into his hoodie pocket.
"I'm meeting Wes and Megan at the park," he tells me."Promised the kid some skating and waffles.Wes said she's been asking about you."
I tense slightly.Getting attached to Megan means getting attached to this town.To these people.To the idea of something that can't last."Maybe next time.Some charts and pickles need finishing."
He pauses at the door.“If you're not ready for the whole town spectacle, that's okay.We can do something smaller.Just us.Or nothing at all, if that's what you need."
His willingness to let me set boundaries makes my throat tight in a way Chuck never did.My eyes drift to my phone, where Chuck's latest text sits like a time bomb.
"My ex texted again," I say, keeping my voice neutral."Right before you got back."
Adam steps back into the room."What did he want?"
"To know if I'm ever coming back to Chicago, or if I've 'given up on real medicine.'His words."I set the phone down, my knuckles white."Apparently small-town practice is beneath someone with my training."
"That's..."Adam searches for the right word.
"Textbook Chuck."I pull up the latest text, showing Adam:
Unknown Number
Your suspension is still a hot topic at the monthly board meeting.Might want to consider how long you plan to hide in the country.
Adam's jaw tightens as he reads it."He's escalating.This isn't keeping tabs.This is trying to control your next move."
"He knows I'm applying for positions," I admit."He’s controlling.His father’s the same way with his mother.Chuck used to tell stories like it was funny.Like it was part of 'professional competition.'"
"And now he's doing the same to you."
"Not anymore," I say, with more conviction than I feel."Or at least, I'm trying not to let it affect me."
"For what it's worth, I think you're handling this better than you realize."
I glance up, wondering if he really sees what I'm trying so hard to hide.All the years spent wasting my time.All the moments Chuck belittled me with words.The insults he started hurling.The feeling of being trapped.Cancer had made me feel lucky just to survive, a mindset Chuck exploited at every turn after acting for months like my every thought mattered."Most men wouldn't stay with someone with your health concerns," he'd remind me, as if loving me was some heroic burden he'd chosen to bear rather than a choice freely made.Even if when I got an actual scare, he was nowhere to be seen.“Not everyone has your chance," he's say and he'd be right.
Adam leans forward."Still…Not letting him pull you back into his orbit.Focusing on your pickle."
"I'm still hiding from a tree lighting," I point out with a wry smile.
