“Me, too.” He sighs. “Let me get your stuff. I gotta get to work, and the snow’s making it hard today.”
“Yeah, of course.” I’m relieved he can’t stay and chat. Also, it’s freezing out, and my feet are going numb.
He opens the passenger door and pulls out a banker’s box. It’s stuffed with mostly useless crap. There’s a prom picture of me and Benji sitting on top. We broke up that night after one of the guys on the football team asked me to dance and Benji flipped his lid. It’s amazing how seven years of memories can be reduced to one cardboard box.
I tuck it under my arm and give Benny an awkward side-hug. It’s while I’m doing this that I notice an SUV driving by on a slow roll. Snow squeaks under the tires as it comes to a stop beside Benny’s car.
The man in the front seat makes eye contact as I disengage from Benny. I feel like I might be hallucinating, because it sure as hell looks like Randy. He starts rolling again, like he’s about to leave. Which doesn’t make sense if he drove here all the way from Toronto.
I’m in pajama pants with moose on them, my moose slippers, and a hoodie with stains. I haven’t brushed my teeth, and it’s damn well freezing out, but there’s no way he’s leaving before I find out why he came all the way here. If it’s him. Otherwise I’ll be embarrassed by what I’m about to do.
“Sorry, Benny, I gotta—” I drop the box in the snow, make wild flailing gestures, and start running. It’s as slippery as a pool of lube, but I’m determined to catch the guy before he blows the stop sign. I hope I’m not losing it and it’s actually Randy.
Thankfully he’s driving cautiously due to the heavy, unplowed snow. I’ve never been so grateful for poor city maintenance. He comes to a halt at the stop sign at the same time I throw myself over the hood. I grab hold where it meets the windshield and look up to find Randy’s stunned face staring back at me.
Sliding off the hood, I wrench open the passenger door and heave myself inside. I decide to play it cool. I pull the door shut and lean against it, going for casual even though I’m breathing like I’ve run a marathon, my shirt is soaked from the snowy hood, and I’m wearing moose slippers. “Hey.”
Randy looks like sex rolled in bacon and dipped in maple syrup. His hair is seriously fucked. It’s longer again, but it’s not pulled back, and half of it is hanging in his face. His beard is all beardy, and all I want to do is wrap myself around him.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” He points to the hood and then to me.
“You were driving away.” I say in breathy defense.
“Are you back with that douche?” Randy jerks his thumb in Benny’s direction, except Benny’s already in his car, so Randy’s motioning to an empty space.
“That’s Benji’s brother, Benny. They look a lot alike with facial hair. And no, there’s no way I’d get back together with him.”
“His brother’s name is Benny?”
“His parents are jerks.”
“Obviously.”
We stare at each other for a few long seconds, in which time I consider all the ways to get naked.
Randy taps the steering wheel, and I stop mentally undressing him so I can listen to his words. “So things are finished with him?” he asks.
“Yeah. Totally finished. Benny was dropping off my stuff from Benji. It’s easier than seeing him. I mean, I can manage seeing him, but he can’t manage seeing me. He still wants to get back together, and I don’t, so it’s awkward.” Kind of like this conversation.
“That’s good. You can do better than that dickhead.” He chews on the inside of his lip while nodding slowly.
“He’s insecure.”
“Doesn’t give him the right to treat you like shit or belittle you.”
God, he’s sexy, and the way he’s talking reminds me of when I first met him at Alex’s cottage. He was so cocky, and then he defended me, and I rammed my tongue down his throat. I can’t believe that was almost six months ago. I can’t believe I’m in love with him, and he’s sitting here, and I have no idea why.
“So, what brings you to Guelph at eight o’clock in the morning?” I ask, again going for casual.
Randy stretches his arm across the seat. “You.”
Well, that’s direct. “I… uh…”
“I don’t wanna not see you anymore.” He blurts it right out, like word vomit.
“Um…” I have no idea what that means. If he’s here for a booty call, I think I might punch him. I will not have casual sex with him, even if I want to.
He runs his hand through his hair. “Sorry. Last night was long.”
“I watched the game.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve been racking up the penalty minutes lately.”
“I’ve been in a bad mood. Happens when the girl I want to be with breaks up with me ’cause I’m not fun anymore.”
Talk about laying it all out there. “I didn’t say you weren’t fun anymore. Wait. Break up with—”