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“After we said goodnight?And after that long walk?”He pinkened.“Right.Sorry.Not a long walk for you.”

“I’ll have you know we did almost three miles yesterday.”Closer to two-and-a-half, but what was a rounding error?“And I had excess energy last night.I hit the treadmill.”

“I didn’t see a treadmill in your house.”

Ah, so you were paying attention.

“One of the upstairs bedrooms is a workout room.I might be able to run in rain, but even I balk at storms and atmospheric rivers, not to mention ridiculous heat-index days.”

“Like the storm…last year?”

I nodded.“That was a bad one.We missed the damage here in Gaynor Beach that places up the coast dealt with.Some localized flooding in LA, right?”

He returned my nod.“Okay, so you’re just doing a light jog.”

Had we just skipped a step?The one where he says something about the weather last year…?“Light jog.Walk.Doesn’t really matter.”

Well, he didn’t need to know the difference.

“We don’t walk fast.I mean, if you want to join us.”He looked down and a little flush chased up his neck.

I didn’t dare hope it meant what I imagined.“I’d love to join you.”I crouched to Wally’s level.“Sorry, boy, I wasn’t ignoring you.”I’d have sworn his eyebrow arched.Then he relented and licked my finger.I laughed.“Yes, I missed you too.”I pushed up and met Phillip’s gaze.“Both of you.”

He let out a little strained laugh.“It’s barely been twelve hours.”

“Fifteen.Not that I’m counting,” I was quick to add.“I’m just super good with arithmetic.”

“Ah.”He scratched his cheek.“Math was never my strength.Probably why I was studying philosophy.”

I arched an eyebrow.“Really?That’s so cool.You’ll have to share?—”

“I didn’t finish my degree.”He gazed off toward the other end of the park.

“Still, you’ll know way more than I did.I was a communications major.No philosophy in sight.I didn’t even want to take English classes—but they proved critical to my degree.”

He turned back.“Shakespeare?”

I barked a laugh.“I stuck to post-modernists and technical-writing classes.As much as flourish is appreciated, most clients want me to get the facts straight.”

“No one cares if I know the difference between Kant and Kierkegaard.”

“Well, I’m sure they both do.”

“They’re dead.”

“Sure.But, like, if they believe in life after death, or reincarnation, or some shit like that, then they might care, right?”

He opened and closed his mouth several times.Finally, he smiled.“Huh.Funny.I never thought of it like that.”

“Let’s walk.”

“Yeah.”

We headed down the path, with me careful to match his strides.Not too fast, but brisker than yesterday.

Possibly because he hasn’t just walked home from the library?Had I pushed him too hard yesterday?I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want him to think that I was judging him.Or being too nosy.

Even though I totally was.Being nosy.Or wanting to be.“Yesterday was fun.”Nice and light.