“But you, a complete stranger, ask the things that no one else will. It’s nice.”

“It’s nice? So that’s a reason to have a damn fit and freak me the hell out?” I frowned.

“Don’t be so serious, Corin. Life’s too short. Trust me.” He reached across the table and took my hand in his. Fingers curling. Palms pressed. Touching. Holding.

Feverish and smoldering.

I pulled away and hid my tingling fingers in my lap beneath the table.

Beckett blinked a couple of times and curled his hand into a relaxed fist. The tension that had been building in the air between us collapsed and disappeared. I was relieved.

I was terrified.

I was so, so disappointed.

“I remember you saying in group that you have a pottery studio in town?” Beckett asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Yeah. It’s called Razzle Dazzle. It’s on Main Street just on the other side of Denny’s.”

“That’s cool. I really like arty stuff. I don’t paint or sculpt or anything like that but I used to take pictures. I was actually pretty good too. My doctor suggested I get back into it or find some other outlet to de-stress. She says art is very calming. I just haven’t really gotten around to it.”

“Sculpting makes me calm,” I responded lamely. Always lamely. It was my natural state of being. I sounded like a Neanderthal. Me Corin like pottery.

“Maybe I could come by sometime,” Beckett ventured.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Anytime. We’re open until five Monday through Saturday, but we don’t open until noon on Wednesdays,” I recited by rote. “We’re also closed on Sundays and on most holidays.”

Okay, Corin, it’s time to shut up now.

“Can I come by now?” Beckett asked.

“N-now?” I sputtered.

Beckett shrugged. “Well, it’s not like you’re drinking that coffee, and I took the rest of the day off, so why not?”

“Oh, well, okay.”

I stood up in a rush and knocked over the still-full cup of coffee.

“Crap!” I yelped. Beckett grabbed a handful of napkins and started mopping up the mess.

“I think you could use some de-stressing as well,” Beckett joked, dropping the soggy napkins on his saucer.

I gave him a half smile. Not much.

But he smiled back as though I had given him so much more.

Chapter 8

Corin

Before leaving the coffee shop, I had excused myself to go to the bathroom to rinse off my shirt that had gotten stained in the Coffeepocalypse.

I closed myself in the restroom and ran some water in the sink, trying to get myself together.

Why was I freaking out?

What was the big deal?

The nerves in the pit of my stomach knocked around like a thousand butterflies, trying to crawl up my throat. Suffocating me. Ruining everything.

This was the first time in my adult life I was developing something that felt a lot like friendship.

Real friendship.

Something genuine.

Sure I had Adam, but most days I was pretty sure he didn’t even like me.

Beckett seemed to enjoy being around me. As incredible as that sounded, he didn’t find me off-putting or odd. He had told me that he liked talking to me. He laughed when I was actually trying to be funny and not because I was acting like a freak.

The dull ache in my chest that I had grown accustomed to had disappeared. The familiar pain in my joints, in my muscles, was gone. I wasn’t thinking about any of that right now.

Because I was almost sure that I had just made a new friend.

This isn’t kindergarten, Corin. Don’t be a dork!

I joined Beckett outside after a few minutes. He was looking down at his phone, a dark scowl on his face. He typed out a text angrily before making a noise of disgust and then shoved the phone into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

Beckett looked up at the sound of my voice, his face clearing. All signs of his earlier irritation gone.

“Just peachy,” he responded a little too brightly.

His phone chirped again and his face blackened again.

“Do you need to answer that?” I asked, pointing to his phone.

He sighed. “I can deal with it later.”

“Is it work?” I pried. I really was being nosy today.

“We really need to find you a filter that fits,” Beckett chuckled, not offended.

“If you have somewhere to be, you can come by the studio later,” I offered, feeling mildly disappointed at the idea.

“No, it’s nothing. Just…it’s just my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

I had almost forgotten about her.

“Ex-girlfriend I mean. We broke up not long ago. She’s just letting me know she came to get her stuff. And you know, to tell me to go fuck myself,” he laughed a little awkwardly. I felt myself brighten. I couldn’t help it. Not about the guy being told to go fuck himself.

But about the fact that he didn’t have a girlfriend anymore.

Why was I so pleased about that?

“I’m sorry?” I wasn’t sure what I should say. Because he didn’t seem too broken up over the whole thing.

Beckett shrugged. “It was a breakup that was long overdue.” He cleared his throat and gave me a small smile.

“What did you say her name was?” I asked. Why are you beating this very dead horse, Corin?

I could tell he didn’t really want to talk about her, but I was curious. Morbidly so.

“Sierra,” he said hesitantly.

“That’s a pretty name,” I replied lamely. It really wasn’t a pretty name. It sounded like something you’d name a horse. Or a mean cheerleader.

A girl with lots of teeth who wore a ponytail on top of her head as she pranced around in crop tops and booty shorts.

“What’s she like?” I asked as we started walking in the direction of my studio.

“She wasn’t the sort of person I wanted to spend my life with, which is why we’re no longer together,” he said a little harshly, and I felt instantly ashamed for grilling him about her.

Beckett looked contrite and his expression softened. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. But it wasn’t a good relationship. I had tried to hold onto this idea of what we used to have before the cardiac arrest, and it just wasn’t working. Neither of us were the people we used to be.”

“You’ve changed,” I surmised.

Beckett shrugged. “Everyone changes. Life is full of ups and downs. And our relationship couldn’t cope with the downs. I need someone who can ride the wave with me. No matter what happens.”

I swallowed thickly, feeling myself pulled in by the intensity of his gaze.

“Oh,” I murmured.

Beckett looked away, somewhere off into the distance.

“Plus she’s younger. She still wanted to party and go bungee jumping on weekends. She never really acclimated herself to how different life was now that I couldn’t do the things I used to.”

“So she wasn’t okay with you not bungee jumping or whatever?”

He shook his head, scratching at his chin absently.

“Well, it sounds like she sucked. And you shouldn’t waste time on sucky people.”

Wow. Really eloquent, Corin, I thought dismally.

“So you don’t waste your time with sucky people? Does that mean I don’t suck?” he asked when we were close to the studio.

I rolled my eyes, though quietly relieved that he hadn’t told me to shove my unwanted opinions up my ass. “I plead the fifth.” We crossed the busy street toward the shop. “Did you really go bungee jumping on weekends?” I asked incredulously.

“Sure. And you haven’t?”

“Do you know how easy it is to have your eyes ripped from their sockets by the force? You could have gone blind!”