automaticaly for the iPhone on the table behind him, or the

automaticaly for the iPhone on the table behind him, or the

faint look of disappointment when he realized it wasn't a

message for him.

I'd have let it go but Eric looked expectant, so I puled it

out and flipped it open.

Where you @?

The sigh came out before I could stop it. I deleted the

message. Eric didn't ask, but I offered, anyway.

"From my ex," I explained. "He likes to keep in touch."

"Do you like him keeping in touch?"

I'd have asked the same question if it had been him getting

the cal, but I'm not sure I'd have been as good at keeping

any hint of jealousy out of my voice.

"I've known him since high school. It's sort of a habit."

"Ah." Eric sat back a little.

When my phone rang a moment later, I ignored it in my

palm and didn't answer it. I looked at him, instead. "I'd

love to go to dinner with you, Eric."

love to go to dinner with you, Eric."

It should have been enough, the promise of that date, but it

wasn't. Along with the other myriad lists commanding he

relate to me just about everything in his life, I left him a pair

of my panties, worn, tucked into an envelope and a note

detailing exactly what he was supposed to do with them.

And I wanted pictures. They were waiting in my in-box

when I got home from work that night. A series of shots

taken in close-up of his prick, his fist, the soft cotton of my

panties clutched tight around the shaft.

I was halfway in love.

I could've found a thousand pictures just like them on any

Internet porn site, true, but al my breath disappeared

when I opened them. He'd done this for me. Because of

me.

Powerful stuff.

Dinner was, if you'l pardon the pun, anticlimactic after

that. He took me to a nice new Mexican restaurant where

we drank margaritas and listened to a very good mariachi

band while we shared first-date stories as though he'd

never been on his knees in front of me.

never been on his knees in front of me.

He kissed me in the elevator when it reached his floor.

One smal, sweet kiss, lips closed. A hand on my waist. A

gentle squeeze. When the door started to close, he

laughed and hopped off through. He watched me as it

shut, until the last thing I saw was his smile through the

crack.

When I got home, my phone rang. It wasn't the expected

text from Eric relating the details of the date, though I had

left him a list of topics I wanted essays on. It was the other

man in my life, the one I couldn't throw away and didn't

want to keep.

"I'm downstairs. I just wanted to tel you, I'm coming up."

"Oh, no, you're not." I cradled the phone against my

shoulder and looked in the mirror. I'd been unbuttoning my

shirt but now I stopped. "I'l meet you at the Mocha in

fifteen minutes."

"No way!"

"Way," I said firmly.

Silence as neither of us gave in. Wel, silence as I waited

Silence as neither of us gave in. Wel, silence as I waited

for him to refuse so I could hang up. Austin sighed, finaly.

"Fine. I'l meet you there."

I didn't change my clothes. I wanted him to see me al

dressed up and wonder why. Yes, it was bitchy. Yes, it

was unnecessary. But I was hardly going to toss on a pair

of grungy sweatpants and a pair of sneakers to greet him.

It didn't matter that Austin had already seen me at my

worst.

You might imagine the audience for caffeine would

diminish after nine at night, but not in the Mocha. People

hunched over their refilable mugs, mainlining high-

powered flavored coffees and clutching at specialty drinks

as they chatted in smal groups and played board games.

Soft music, something indie and folksy that would make

my ears bleed if I paid too much attention to it, drifted out

of the speakers.

I spotted Austin right away. His faded denim stood out

from the rest of the skinny jeans and flat-ironed-hair boys,

and he didn't wear a speck of guyliner. His hair had grown

long enough now to pul back in a ponytail at the nape of

his neck. He was carrying two big cups.

his neck. He was carrying two big cups.

When he saw me, his face lit up, so much the way it used

to that my heart hurt. I swalowed hard against the rush of

memories threatening to topple me right then and there. He

handed me a mug and gestured toward a love seat set

toward the back of the shop.

"Sit?"

He asked, didn't tel, so I nodded. "Sure."

I had time to compare first-date awkwardnesses as he

folowed me. My dinner with Eric had been thick with

tension, but with Austin at my back al I could think of was

how uncomfortable it felt to not know what to say. I sat

and warmed my hands on the cup, which was almost too

hot for comfort.

"You look pretty."

"Thanks."

We both sipped. Austin put his mug on the table and dug

in his pocket for something he held out to me. "Here."

I didn't take it at first. "What is it?"

I didn't take it at first. "What is it?"

He held it out again. "Just something they were giving out

at the bank when I signed up for a new checking account.

Made me think of you."

"Is it money?" I took it, not money but a smal clear plastic bottle.

Hand sanitizer, the bottle imprinted with the bank logo.

Just a smal bottle, only enough for one or two uses. I

clutched it in my palm and didn't know what to say.

"I thought you'd laugh," Austin said when I didn't make a

sound. "Shit, Paige. I'm sorry. I just thought—"

"I know what you thought. Why you thought it." I tucked it into my bag.

"It's just…you know. Your thing."

He did know me. I hadn't believed he did. Maybe I hadn't

wanted to believe.

"Thank you."

More awkward silence.

More awkward silence.

When he finaly spoke, it was in a man's voice and not the

familiar voice of the boy I'd falen in love with. It helped, a

little. Made him more of a stranger than he was, so I could

keep him just far enough away not to leap into his arms.

"Paige," Austin said. "I just wanted to tel you that I'm realy sorry."

I didn't know I was going to touch him until it was too late

to pul back my hand. His hair was soft beneath my

fingers, and I let them drift over it and down to tug the

ponytail he'd never have worn in high school. "Shit

happens."

He laughed and looked down. "Yeah. Wel, with us, a lot

of shit happened, huh?"

I took my hand away and shrugged. "We were young."

"Young, dumb…"

"And ful of come," we finished together, quoting one of

our favorite movies.

It felt good to laugh with him. It had been a realy long time

It felt good to laugh with him. It had been a realy long time

since we'd sat like this. Beside me, his thigh was big and

warm. The love seat dipped from his weight, forcing me to

sit closer whether I wanted to or not. I thought I might

want to.

"I just wanted to tel you that." Austin shifted to face me.

A smart-ass, snotty reply rose to my lips, but didn't come

out. "You don't have to apologize. We've been divorced

for years."

When he reached for my hand, I shouldn't have been

surprised. It was the perfect moment, after al. Soft music,

expensive hot drinks, the scent of cheap body spray

wafting from the gaggle of out-too-late teens in the corner

and the rise and fal of their laughter al wove a John

Hughes–film mood. It was the perfect time to have my ex-

husband kiss my knuckles, look deep into my eyes and

say, with utmost seriousness,

"So, I didn't jerk off the other night. Just like you said."

I yanked my hand from his. "Austin!"

"What?" He looked genuinely confused. "You said not to."

"I know what I said." My heart became a bird, my ribs the

cage it beat against.

He sat back, frowning, and crossed his arms over a chest I

couldn't help noticing was broad and muscled under his T-

shirt. "And?"

I frowned, too. "I thought you were trying to be nice."

"I am being nice! I bought you coffee!"

"You asked me here to get me into bed!" I'd turned heads

with my raised voice. I stood and glared down at him.

"That was the only reason?"

Austin looked guilty. Then he shot me a cunt-seeking

missile of a grin. "That's not the only reason."

I jerked my chin at him and flipped my hair. Yeah, very

high school, but we had a history. "Fuck you."

"I'm hoping."

I didn't want to smile or laugh, so I bit down on my

tongue. Hard. "It's late. I have to work tomorrow. Good

night, Austin."

night, Austin."

I was gone before he could register the fact I meant it.

What Austin didn't know was that it wasn't that I didn't

want to take him to bed and screw the living daylights out

of him. I wanted that very much. But there was a part of

me, smal though it was, that knew this couldn't be good

for either one of us.

We had history, and a past, and al of that meant he knew

how to push my buttons just right. It didn't mean we

should keep pushing those buttons. Like Def Leppard

said, it was time to stop treating each other like an act of

war.

I made it al the way to the sidewalk before he was out

after me. Austin grabbed my elbow and I turned to face

him, my mouth already open to say something cutting. He

stopped it with his tongue. He walked me up against the

bricks, hard on my back. Him hard on my front.

I pushed him away. "I'm not that easy."

He puled me closer and kissed me softer. "You could be.

I know you could be."

"Austin…" His name eased out of me on a sigh. "This isn't a good idea. Can't we just be friends?"

"What? Are you shitting me?" His hands gripped my waist,

but he wasn't pressing me against the wal anymore.

I sagged against him, my head in the place it fit just right on

his chest. "No. I'm not."

His grip tightened on me, then released. I mourned the loss

of his body when he stepped away from me, even though I

knew it was for the best. Fucking like tigers had its place,

no doubt, but I didn't think I could keep surviving the

scars.

Austin smoothed my hair off my forehead and hovered his

mouth over mine without kissing me. "Fine."

"Yes?" I refused to let myself feel miffed. It was what I

wanted, after al. To stop the constant game of catch and

release we'd begun so many years ago.

"If that's what you want. If it's al you want."

I stepped out of his embrace. "I think it's better for both of

us, Austin. If we…you know. Move on."

us, Austin. If we…you know. Move on."

"If that it's what you want," he repeated. "I'l do whatever it takes."

I blinked slowly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged and looked around at the night before

looking back at me. "It means I'l do whatever it takes.

Whatever you need. What you want. I'm your guy."

"Austin," I said warningly, but he held up a hand.

"It's stupid not to have you in my life, Paige. We've known

each other too long and too wel to just throw that al

away. I told you that when you left me."

"That was a long time ago."

"It hasn't changed." He shook his head and shot me a

smile. "So. Friends? Fine."

"Whatever it takes?" I said warily. "Uh-huh."

He leaned to kiss me again, and this time I let him. He hit

my cheek with his lips, his kiss chaste and demure. He

didn't even grab my ass.

didn't even grab my ass.

"I'm going home," I said.

"I'l walk you."

I pointed down the block. "You don't have to. I can see

the door to my building from here."

"I'l walk with you anyway."

He did. We didn't speak. He didn't try to kiss me again, or

come upstairs. He didn't shake my hand, either.

"I'l cal you," Austin said, and I had no doubt he would.