Page 55 of Under the Weatherman
Every restaurant would be loud and crowded, but the coffee places were closed. “I suppose we could try.”
We started back the way we’d come, and I couldn’t help compare it to the first night we’d met when I’d walked along beside him with this sense of excitement and trepidation. He’d been a complete stranger I thought I’d never see again, but now we were here, again, and we’d shared experiences, layered on a little history.
He said, “I don’t know why I believed you that first night.”
So he was reliving our weird meet cute, too. “I wish we’d met some other way, but without Chelsea pushing me, I wouldn’t have even spoken to you.” I’d never have had the nerve. “Do you ever wonder what might have happened if we’d met some other way?”
He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “That’s the thing. Maybe we would have met somehow. But it would be different, so we’ll never know. Like even if we’d first met at the TV station, we wouldn’t be friends.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t normally socialize with coworkers.”
Well, that added another damper to this night.
We neared the little diner that served ice cream and burgers, but no booze. It seemed quiet enough for conversation, so I said, “How about a milkshake?”
A look of recognition passed over his face. “I can’t believe this place is still here.”
“Another old haunt?”
“Hardly, but I remember it. So many other businesses have changed until this town feels like a body that’s been possessed by other spirits.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Or Spirit Halloween.”
He held the door open for me, and we settled into a booth.
The waitress came and took our order. I went for a chocolate mint milkshake, while Evan ordered French fries and a Coke.
Once we were alone again, I worked up the nerve to ask, “If you don’t socialize with coworkers, then what is this?”
“This?” He peered over the menu at me, and even the harsh light of the overhead fluorescents couldn’t wash out his beauty. No wonder the camera loved him.
“I mean, you’re out with me.” Oh, God, save me. I could hear emotion in my voice I didn’t want to reveal. What the hell was wrong with me. I pulled the parachute cord. “Obviously, this isn’t a date, but we’re socializing, aren’t we? You don’t think we might have been friends if we’d met any other way?”
“It’s a catch-22, isn’t it? I probably wouldn’t have befriended you if you hadn’t impersonated someone I already knew.”
“So this is the only timeline where we could become friends?”
He lifted his eyes to mine, looking so wary. “Well, no. Not in this timeline either because you shattered my trust.”
Ah. Suddenly, I found I had nothing to say. There were no words that would reach him. He was simply never going to let it go.
Chapter Eighteen
Evan
“Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow.”
Romeo and Juliet
“So are you nervous about Monday?” Elizabeth asked before popping the straw back into her mouth. I stared at her for a heartbeat, a memory of the first time we kissed superimposed over her lips. At the time, those lips had belonged to someone else—at least in my mind.
I wished I could trust her, but even our reason for going out tonight had been based in a lie. Several really, starting with Bas and Chelsea tricking me this morning. She’d only agreed to pretend to be friends for Chelsea’s sake. She’d only gone out with me to hold her friend’s feet to the fire.
I shook my head to focus on Elizabeth, the person in front of me, and not the avatar of my dysfunction. “A little bit.”
“But you’re an old pro at this by now, right?”
