Page 98 of Lessons in Timing

“I wasn’t sure either.” Lucas’s eyelashes fluttered shyly, and he bit his lip, likely killing Armand. He added a final nail to the coffin: “How’s the foot?”

Armand glanced down and gripped his cane tighter, his face turning a rather impressive shade of burgundy. “Oh, er, fine. Erm.” He looked around again at their audience. “Um, would you like to find somewhere more p-private? To ... to talk?”

“That sounds absolutely— Ohhey!” Lucas had caught sight of me. “Robin! You were right about the accent, ooh and the awkward grumpy bear: totally worth it.” He reached out a hand toward me and god help me, I high-fived it. At least partially just to see the look on Armand’s face, but he was busy giving Skyler a very British hello nod.

Skyler.

Skyler who had said hello to Armand and was now staring at me. I quickly turned my attention back to the other two.

“Would you like to, er, food? I mean, get dinner?” Armand was once again, somehow, without the slightest hint of game, managing to charm Lucas—and the rest of us—directly out of our pants.

“There’s a sweet little Japanese place downtown I’ve been wanting to check out,” Lucas said. “I’ll buy dinner if you promise to order anything other than Ramen.”

Armand laughed at that, and next thing I knew, they were making their way out of the convention hall, the sea of fans parting as if they were a pair of gay Moseses.

Skyler, however, had stayed put.

And so had I.

He was trying to get me to meet his eye, but I was far more interested in the floor. It was a shiny floor. I liked it—I could study it for a good hour.

I couldn’t look at Skyler. Not without getting smacked in the face by the same realization over and over again. That Armand had been right.

That what I’d done was unforgivable. And that I’d known it all along.

I’d reduced this beautiful, kind,sweet, sweet man to ... a crush. Well, not so much a crush, more like the love of my life, actually, but still. I’d been so caught up in the idea that he didn’t see me the way I wanted him to—as a love interest, not a sidekick—that I’d blown any chance for any relationship we might have had.

Finally, his sneaker came into view and nudged the toe of my Converse. “Robin?”

I looked up at him, one arm wrapped around my middle and the other twisted awkwardly behind me. “Yeah.” Then before he could say anything else I blurted, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

I shut my eyes tight. “I’m sorry I ran away after you came out to me. That was an awful, horrible thing to do, like, literally the worst thing in the world. And I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to be your friend, because Idowant to be your friend. Problem is, I want to bemorethan a friend but that’smyproblem notyoursand—”

“Robin.”

I opened my eyes. He was almost smiling. “Yeah?”

“Take a walk with me?” He inclined his head to the side.

I chewed on my lip. “’Kay.”

He started out of the convention hall, glancing back at me over his shoulder.

After a moment, I followed him out of the hall and into the convention gardens. There were fewer people out here because it was late afternoon in the middle of August and there was air conditioning indoors, but Skyler seemed intent on finding a private, intimate place for this conversation to happen.

Like, oh, I don’t know, a stone bench under a pair of flowering Jacaranda trees. Because that wasn’t romantic and picturesque and fuck me, right?

Except ...not. Obviously.

Skyler sat down on the bench and patted the seat next to him, giving me a hopeful little smile. God, I was such an asshole.

I shifted uncomfortably for a moment before setting myself on the bench. I clasped my hands in my lap anddidn’t look at him.

Skyler sighed. “Robin, about what happened last night—”

“I’m really so sorry about that,” I cut him off. “Really, we— I can leave now and never—”