Page 46 of Heal Me, Love Me

“It shouldn’t be.”

“And staying can’t be some kind of test either.” I looked down at the glass of water in front of me and watched condensation slide down the side. “If I stay, it can’t be because I’m trying to prove I won’t run. If I go, it can’t mean I’m choosing Florida over you.”

“I don’t want you moving across the country,” he admitted. “Still, I want to be supportive because I know this could be good for your career, and I’m not going to be the asshole who asks you to stay because I’m scared.”

“You’re scared?”

He swallowed. “Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know if scared is the right word.” I closed my eyes for a second. “I hate that Atlantic Combat might be the best option for my career, and I hate that I can’t afford to ignore the opportunity. I don’t want to move to Florida because I’m running from everything here, but I don’t want to turn down a move that could help my career just because I want to stay close to you.”

His gaze dropped for a moment. “I get that.”

“If I go, it has to be because Atlantic Combat is the right move for me, not because Ridgway works here, Devon kissed you, or everything got complicated and Grant gave me somewhere else to go.” I looked toward the bar once more, but this time, Ridgway was watching and waiting for a reaction, but seeing him no longer made Florida feel like an escape. “I haven’t decided anything,” I said to Keaton.

“Okay.”

“And I’m not deciding tonight.”

“Good.” His foot brushed mine under the table. “Because tonight, I researched a restaurant, put on jeans that make my ass look good, and got us banana bread for later.”

I made a show of glancing under the table even though I couldn’t see anything from that angle. “The jeans are doing their job.”

“I know.”

“Cocky.”

“Yeah, but you love my co?—”

Tessa returned with our food and set my burger in front of me first, then Keaton’s steak sandwich in front of him. “Can I grab you anything else?”

He shook his head. “I think we’re good.”

I nodded in agreement, and we dug into our food.

For a while, the night became what it should’ve been before Ridgway tried to drag the past up to our table.

Keaton stole one of my fries even though he had his own. I took a bite of his steak sandwich because he kept insisting it was better than my burger. It wasn’t, but it was good enough that I didn’t give him too much shit for it.

When we finished eating, the heat between us hadn’t settled. If anything, it got harder to ignore. Every brush of his foot under the table pulled my attention back to him. Every look across the rim of his glass made my pulse race. Every time his hand drifted close to mine and stopped just short, my body remembered exactly what those fingers could do.

By the time Tessa came back with the check, I was half-hard and annoyed about it.

Keaton reached for the black folder before I could.

“Absolutely not,” I protested.

His brow lifted. “You want to wrestle over it in public?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I planned the date. I’m paying.”

“I can pay for myself.”

“I know.” He slipped his card into the folder. “You can get it next time.”

Next time.