Bear’s office has a couch. After cleaning me up, he carries me there and feeds me pizza. A girl could get used to this.
You will not get used to this, I scold. You love ‘em and leave ‘em now, remember?
The big screen in the game room has a movie silently playing. Grace Kelly and Cary Grant riding in a blue convertible. Poise, elegance. I try not to slurp cheese off my last slice. I do need the calories. Bear strokes my calf absently.
“When is the wedding?”
“What?” I squawk. “Oh, yes. My cousin’s wedding. It’s, uh, in two weeks.”
I wait for him to say more but he does not. I finish my meal and crawl up on his lap. He hasn’t said much since our mutual c*m-aggedon. I know he felt it like I did. In my experience, guys tend to ignore those feelings. They date me for a bit until my weirdnes
