Page 23 of Death, Interrupted
I watched as she gave him an annoyed look. “There are coffee shops for that. You’re in my way.”
I pressed my lips together to keep the smile in. Since Sly crashed into my life, I’d wanted to laugh more than I had in years. That meant something. He was an honest man who could make me laugh without trying hard. I’ve not felt the pull of a real smile in years. Joey never gave me a reason to.
It had to mean something. A guy who could make me smile without effort, and who spoke openly and honestly without me dragging it out of him.
Sly grabbed two boxes of tissues and dropped them into her cart. “There. Emergency solved. Now excuse me while I convince this beautiful woman I’m worth having around.”
The woman stared at him, then at me. “I don’t know this man, but he’s obnoxious. You might want to rethink this.”
My eyes flicked to Sly. His mouth hung open like she’d slapped him across the face. She wasn’t wrong. He was obnoxious, but in a fun way I didn’t mind.
“Take that back,” he said, frowning at her.
“No.” She pushed the cart forward, but Sly wasn’t done.
“That’s the thanks I get?” He set his helmet on the shelf, reached into her cart, and pulled the tissues out again. “You don’t deserve my kindness.
“Put those back,” she snapped, grabbing for the boxes. “You can’t undo a favor.”
“It wasn’t a favor,” he said. “It was a ‘here are your tissues, now please vacate the aisle so I can ask this woman for her number without a live studio audience.’”
“Young people,” she muttered, tugging harder. “You think you’re the only ones here and forget the older generation.”
“I do not forget you,” he said, offended. “I’m a decent twenty-eight-year-old man trying to demonstrate decency, but you’re making it really hard for me.”
I was unable to hold back my smile any longer, and I let it escape. The woman yanked the tissues free, then gave him a light punch to the arm on principle. “You should rethink this,” she told me, then rolled away.
Sly rubbed his arm with a scowl. “Witch.”
“That was…unexpectedly fun,” I said.
He blew out a breath and faced me again. “I’m sorry, Sumner. I know I haven’t made the best impression. Feels like everything I say argues against me. I just want one chance. To show you I mean itwhen I say I want you to be okay. I want to get to know you. I want to give you what you need. If what you need is space, you get space. If what you need is help, I’ll help. If what you need is for me to disappear, I'll disappear.”
We stood there in silence for a moment while I let his words settle between us. They sounded like something I wanted to believe, but it wasn’t easy to accept that someone might actually try to be what I needed. Part of me still wanted to tell him to vanish, to close the conversation before it opened a door I didn’t fully trust.
I worried about the backlash. People would have questions. Why I left Joey, why I’d chosen to walk away after everything he’d lost, why I hadn’t stayed to explain or forgive or fix something that wasn’t mine to fix. I imagined the looks, the judgment. I wasn’t ready to be judged for the trauma Joey put me through.
Sly didn’t offer judgment. He offered help and a willingness to wait. That was new. The only problem was that I didn’t yet know exactly what I needed. I hadn’t figured that out for myself.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second before looking at him again. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yeah. Fine.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to him. “Give me your number.”
He hesitated but took it from my hand quickly,like he was worried I would put it away again. He tapped his number in with that impatient hope flashing on his face. Then he handed the phone back, his expression surprised, his lips slightly parted.
“If I want to hear from you, I’ll use it,” I said.
“Understood,” he replied with a nod.
“And you’re going to stop standing outside my house,” I added.
He went quiet, and I raised a brow. “Sly.”
“How will I know you’re okay?” he asked, sounding defensive.
“Trust me,” I said. “I need time to sort this. Give me space. Don’t stand outside my house. Don’t camp on the street.”