Page 54 of Huckleberry Hill
“Wade was my high school boyfriend,” I explained. “I have the inside scoop.”
“Ah that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Explains the death-glare he gave me.”
“He didn’t death-glare you,” I protested.
“Right,” he said with a wry smile. He lifted his pint class. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I said, clinking my glass against his before taking a sip.
“So, you’ve been avoiding me.”
“What? No.”
“Yes,” he said. “Be honest with me.”
“I really haven’t been avoiding you,” I promised. “It’s just worked out that way. I swear.”
“Okay.” He lifted his pint and took a sip. “You don’t have to be a stranger, you know. You’re welcome to enjoy a beer and talk anytime you want.”
My gaze narrowed. “Talk.”
“Yeah, talk. Like what we did the other night when I told you my dad wasn’t my dad.”
“I remember.”
“If anyone should be embarrassed it should be me.”
“Why should you be embarrassed?”
“Because I told you some personal shit and people get weird when you tell them personal shit.”
“I appreciated that you told me about your parents. And I . . .”
“Yes?”
“Realized that I didn’t tell you anything.”
“I didn’t ask. I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you’d talk about it.” He shrugged. “I’ve got nothing to hide, Hadley.”
“Have you ever been married?” I blurted out.
He smiled slightly. “No.”
“Serious relationships?”
“None of those either.”
“How is that possible?” I demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you seem emotionally mature and very self-aware. How are you not taken?”
“I became self-aware only about a month ago,” he joked.
