Page 93 of The Recovery Coach
Fuck.Get it together.
She had a boyfriend.
“I don’t know.Stuff, I guess.”
“Stuff.”
“Yeah.Stuff.Music and movies and hobbies and jobs, and families.Our dreams and goals.All the stuff you already know about both of us.We’re getting to know each other.”
He finished a second coat on both her feet, then handed her the bottle and stuck his foot between her legs, resting it on the toilet lid.She set her drink aside and painted his toes without question.
“We’re going to match!”
He hated himself, but he had to ask.“Have you two...?”
Tipsy, she didn’t fill in the blanks.
“Have we what?”
“You know.”
“Ooooh.Fucked.You want to know if we fucked.”
Her hand wavered, and she swiped blue polish onto more than his toenails.
Hazy cleared his throat.He forgot how blunt she got when she drank.It’d been so long since they’d indulged together.“Have you?”
She rubbed away the excess paint on his toes, then wiped her fingers on her bikini bottoms.Those things were beyond ruined, destined to forever be hair dye and painting clothes.
“Nope.He’s a perfect gentleman.”
He switched feet when she finished her paint job on the first one.“You’ve been on like ten dates.He hasn’t made a move?”
She looked up from her task and met his gaze, laughter dancing in her eyes.“I didn’t say that.”
“You’ve done other stuff then?”Was it any of his business?No.Did he need to know?No.Regardless, he couldn’t let it go.
Livy took a quick sip of her drink, then refocused on painting his toenails, her brow furrowed in concentration.“Why do you want to know?”
He feigned nonchalance with a shrug.“Curiosity, I guess.”
She put the cap on the nail polish right as the timer went off.Hazy grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet.He ran the tap as warm as it would go and soaked it, then wrung it out.
Holding her chin in his hand, he wiped the dried mask from her face.It forced her to meet his eyes.
“We haven’t done anything.”
Hazy didn’t know if that was the best-case scenario or the worst.
“How do you feel about that?”
With the mud washed away, he set the warm rag aside, then moved behind her and lifted her hair away from her skin.
“It doesn’t bug me,” she replied.“We aren’t serious.He’s fun to be around.”
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, unsure how to interpret her lack of interest in a physical relationship with her supposed boyfriend.She took his cue and stood, leading him to the bathtub where she sank to her knees.
For the briefest moment, a vision of her kneeling before him for a different reason crossed his mind.He shoved the idea down as he’d been doing with every unwelcome stray thought.
