Page 82 of Let's Talk About Love

“As long as I don’t think about Them? Yes. Bless you and your powers of distraction.”

He lowered his head to her shoulder, and quietly asked, “Did you really fight about me?”

“Stop being so perceptive. And technically, no.” Her fingers brushed his hair—a reflex after doing it so many times to comfort him.“You’re like one more straw on an already broken camel, except I thought it was just a few hairline fractures here and there.”

Takumi tried to take a deep breath, but it ended in a slight coughing fit. He stood up straight, turning his head into the crook of his arm. She stood beside him to rub his back.

“Would it help if I talked to them?” Takumi asked after he finished coughing.

“It would not. At all.”

“Are you sure? I could explain how things are between us. I was hoping to meet them anyway.”

(WELL, HELLO THERE, TARNATION.)

Alice nodded and returned to the refrigerator. “So. When you sayhow things areyou mean what exactly? Oh, and are sandwiches, okay?”

“That we’re friends and yes.”

“Yes. Friends.” She placed the fixings on the counter. “Friends.”

He stood beside her. “Are we something else?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know.” Sidestepping him, she headed for the utensil drawer. He followed. She could feel him staring at her, trying to catch her eye. “I’m sure it was the cold medicine, but you insisted it wasn’t and I was getting a vibe. Actually, I’m not a hundred percent on the concept of vibes, but if I had to put a name to it, I’d say vibe.”

Head down, she pulled four slices of bread from the bag.

Takumi leaned over, placing his elbow on the counter. He gazed at her with his fist pressed to his temple.

“Alice?”

“Takumi?” She mimicked his playful tone. “Mustard, right?”

“Look at me, please.”

His amused expression made her feel soft and warm and squishy all over. Indecision quivered inside her chest. It terrified her how much she wanted his friendship and the connection they had created. Because it was him and he had turned her whole life upside down andshe was so lost, flailing in unfamiliar territory, and if he’d let her, she’d anchor herself to him until she found her way.

And she was about to risk it all.

“I need to tell you something.” She took a step back. “Like, whatever you’re going to say, don’t say it because I need to tell you this first.”

“Okay.” He hadn’t stopped smiling. “You have my full attention.”

“Good. Okay.” She wanted to stop. “So you know how some people like jogging?”

“I’m one of those people, so yes.”

“Ah, yeah, okay. That worked out.” Her breathy laugh sounded forced. “So, you see, I am not one of those people. I don’t care about jogging.”

“Mmm…” He squinted at her for a moment. “Somehow, I knew that.”

“Oh, great. Good. This is going well.” Her hands began to shake. She pressed her fingers to her lips to steel herself before continuing. “Now take the wordjoggingand replace it withsex.”

“You don’t like sex?”

(Wow, he asked that fast.)

“No.” She held up her hand. “No, the correct sentence isI don’t care about sex.” She took a deep breath and held it. “Because I’m not sexually attracted to anyone.”