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“I haven’t had a woman over since I moved out here, right when my ex-wife and I separated. Almost three years.”

I wince. “Jesus. That’s a long time. I would’ve thought you must’ve had something casual, surely.”

“Nope. You’re the first woman I’ve wanted to kiss since my wife.”

“That ... is an honor, I think,” I say, suddenly aware of my heart thrumming. I feel the beats in my chest, in my throat, in my head.

“It’s definitely an honor. A dubious one, probably.”

“So, why haven’t you wanted to kiss anyone?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t. I went out a few times but couldn’t muster any interest. For a while, I was depressed. Not that I couldn’t function, but I just shut down that part of myself. I wasn’t even looking.”

He rubs his head again.

“Do you miss having hair?”

His hand freezes on his skull. “What do you mean?”

“It looks like you keep trying to run your hand through it.”

Joe laughs and gives the top a couple of extra playful rubs for effect. “I guess. I started losing hair in my 20s. I’m lucky that bald heads are in vogue.”

“I like your look.” I wave in his general direction. “The whole bald-head, bushy-beard, brawny-body vibe.”

“I seem to remember someone said I looked like a god.”

“That never happened.” I school my features in mock seriousness. “You’re making things up.”

He leans toward me and whispers, “Are you calling me a liar, Miss Melanie, oops, actually my name is Liz?”

I want to protest but his face is so, so close, his eyes roaming, and I’m starting to feel very, very hot in a way that I really, really like.

“Yeah...” My words come out as a whisper. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m not.” His breath sounds ragged. “I’ve loved every single moment of tonight.”

Fuck. I feel the same. “I should really feel worse about being here with you. I was engaged three weeks ago, for goodness’ sake.”

He backs off immediately. “Shit. You’re right. This is too early for you. I’m sorry... I’ve just been too eager, so excited about this”—he motions between us—“after I’d been dead inside for so long.”

“So this thing would be a rebound for both of us,” I say, almost absentmindedly.

He blinks.

“You know, the first relationship after a long, important one? The rebound. We’re both each other’s rebound.”

“Rebound...” He sounds like his brain was just wiped by a space laser.

“Rebounds are not serious,” I continue. “They don’t really go anywhere. They’re fun and help people heal.”

Joe finally regains some sentience. “Are you saying we’ve met so we could heal each other?”

“I mean, I don’t think some divine being thrust us together for that purpose, no. But think about it. Right out of the gate, we get along like a house on fire. I’m out of an engagement that’s left me disillusioned, your marriage had a similar effect on you. So I say we just enjoy each other for however long this lasts. A rebound.”

Joe’s eyebrows shoot up. “You are suggesting a casual relationship?”

“Yes.” I’m feeling increasingly proud of myself for coming up with this very grownup, very woman-of-the-world idea.