Page 8 of The Situationship

“Feeding the animals and all that?”

He nodded. “Yup.”

“Do you ever get lonely?”

He looked at the last bite of his sandwich. There was a pause. “All the time.”

He popped the final piece in his mouth and went to put the ingredients away.

I finished eating. When I was done, I took my plate to the sink to wash it.

“Just leave it,” he said.

I ignored him and washed it. I reached for the pan.

“Leave it, I’ll do it.”

“I know how to clean a cast-iron pan,” I said, picking it up.

“I didn’t say you didn’t. I just don’t want you to have to work. You’re a guest.” He lifted it out of my hand and set it back on the stove.

I crossed my arms and looked up at him. “So you don’t have a girlfriend?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why?”

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” he countered.

“I’m a travel nurse. I leave them. I don’t live anywhere.”

“I live in a small tourist town,” he said. “Practically everyone who lives here year-round is related to me.”

“Okay. Fair enough.”

He looked amused.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a little chicken,” I snapped.

He laughed, the creases around his eyes deepening. God, he was handsome.

I let out an exasperated breath through my nose. “Are you going to play the guitar for me or not?”

“You are so bossy.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Not even a little.” He grinned.

I had to fight to keep my expression straight. He looked thoroughly entertained by me.

I jutted up my chin. “I have to warn you that if I don’t like your playing, you will see it on my face. That’s just how my face works.”

“Fine with me.”