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“I know. I don’t want that either.” I want so much more. My heart is beating fast and I’m having this surreal moment standing outside myself watching this scene unfold, knowing I have very little control. “Would you start over with me? Wouldyou go on a date with me and pretend we’re starting from scratch? You could tell me what you do want. What you need, like we’re meeting for the first time and talk about the future and—” I duck my head. “Well all the things that might entail.” I can’t help the way my eyes stray to her belly. I haven’t let myself think about it too much, but after she left I’ve thought more than once about what it would be like if she had been pregnant.

“Really?” She stares at me.

I sigh. I’ve more than earned her distrust. “I’m sorry, Liv. I’m sorry for the way I handled it. I was an ass. But I didn’t come for you because I thought you were or weren’t. I came because I had to. I have to know if I can make this work.”

She nods. “I understand. I think there’s a part of me that’s still wondering too. Despite everything.”

There’s a pause. She lifts her hand to wipe a soap bubble from my cheek and the touch of her skin on mine sends a pulse through me.

“I’ll start over with you, Noah Wilson. Of course I will.”

I can’t help scooping her up into a hug even with the rubber gloves still over my hands. “You won’t regret it. I promise. Can I take you out tomorrow?”

THIRTY ONE

Olivia

I’m surprised when Noah asks me to meet him at University Park. I expected him to choose the beach or a restaurant, not the local park. He waves at me from across the street as I approach, with a light backpack slung over his shoulder and wearing a short-sleeved button-down shirt with a loud floral design. The shirt makes me laugh and his big smile warms me up from the inside. When I cross the street, he takes my bag as well. “Thank you for coming.”

I lean up for a kiss, but instead of meeting my lips as I expect, he brushes his against my cheek. “I hope you’re ready. We’re learning to paint today.”

“Oh really? That sounds like fun.”

I continue to be amazed as we join a small group of people already standing in the park in a shady spot with easels and brushes at the ready. “Wow, Noah, this is really lovely. How did you find out about this?”

He just smiles, looking very pleased with himself, and I turn my attention for a while to the teacher. I do my best to follow her directions, but it’s not easy, and pretty soon my canvas looks like a paint factory exploded on it.

I look across to Noah’s to find him scowling at it. “This would be easier if I was shifted,” he complains.

I giggle. I can’t help myself. We’ve been painting the landscape and Noah has chosen to focus on the university building in the background, but his building is very lopsided and a long smudge of green tarnishes one wall. “What happened there?” I point.

“It’s harder than it looks, OK?”

“Oh I know. Look at mine.”

He does. Then looks back at his. “Mine’s worse.”

“It just needs a little…” Reaching across, I try to paint a brown branch under the smudge of green to make it look like the leafy branch of a tree is cutting across the foreground. That only makes things worse.

Noah’s mouth drops open in a look of mock outrage. “Oh, is that right?”

“Maybe.” I give him my best sorry not sorry look.

All of a sudden, he swipes across my painting with bright red. Then yellow and orange and the paint explosion turns into a paint-nami. We’re both giggling, and somehow I end up with paint on my cheek and Noah has a splodge on his nose.

The teacher gives us strange looks at the end of the lesson, and I hope she’s not too offended. I’m sure having two adults giggling through the session like a couple of school kids was not her idea of a pleasant Saturday morning, but she thanks us for coming and asks if we want to take our art home.

We glance at each other. “Uh, no. You can keep them. Thank you again for a great lesson. Sorry we were terrible students.”

Afterward, we sit on the edge of the fountain and eat the lunch Noah packed for us.

He takes only a few bites of his sandwich and sets it aside, whereas I polish off the whole thing and lick my fingers. Like everything Noah makes, it’s delicious.

I look around at him. “You’re not hungry?”

“Did I mess this up already? I didn’t mean to make the lesson into a joke. It’s just been a long time since I tried to date anyone.”

I reach over and take his hand. “You didn’t mess it up. This is perfect.”