“Okay.”
She didn’t have anything else to say? For him, a week without her sounded like a week in the desert without water. But for her, it was ‘Okay.’”
“I want to see you before I leave,” he said. “This space you need, I’ll give it to you, but don’t expect me to disappear.” He’d let her go once and had never forgiven himself for it. She couldn’t get rid of him that easily.
“Ryan—”
“I mean it.”
Silence. “All right. Look, I better go. We can catch up later.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay.”
After they hung up, Ryan stared off into the distance, doing his best to not think about the disappointing conversation.
Okay.
He hated that word.
****
It took every bit of willpower Ryan had not to call Shawna on Sunday, but he’d promised to give her space and wanted to keep his promise. To do that, he went to his usual Sunday afternoon haunt, a local bar where he now sat with his friend, Tomas Molina.
Ryan nursed a mug of beer, watching Tomas flirt with the female bartender. He said something that made her blush and laugh. If dating were an Olympic sport, the Cuban immigrant would easily land the gold medal. A big, brawny guy with long brown hair, he went through women the way most men changed underwear and could often be heard doling out relationship advice to men and women in the bar. Why anyone would listen to the serial dater, Ryan couldn’t understand.
“So what did William say when you told him you’d slept with his sister-in-law?” Tomas asked. He had a basket of wings in front of him and went through them as if they were his last meal.
“I didn’t exactly tell him. I don’t know how much information Shawna plans to share about Chicago or Friday night, and I don’t want to make things awkward for her. He read between the lines and made it clear I’d have to answer to him if she got hurt.”
Tomas nodded. “Understandable that he’d be protective.”
“Yeah, but I wish he hadn’t mentioned the part about being a doctor and knowing twenty different ways to slowly kill me with poison and not leave a trace.”
Tomas choked on a piece of chicken and Ryan slapped his back. “He said that?” he asked once he’d caught his breath.
“Yes.”
“You better be on your best behavior then, amigo.”
Ryan frowned into his mug of ale. “I am on my best behavior, but I don’t know if it’ll do any good.”
Tomas looked at him questioningly.
“She wants space,” Ryan said.
“Space?” Tomas repeated the word like it was dirty. He wiped his hand on a napkin. “Let me tell you something about women,” he said.
Ryan groaned. “No, please . . .”
“No really, listen to me.”
“No, you listen. I screwed up once before, and this time I’m straight shooting with her. Whatever game you’re going to suggest I play, I’m not interested. I don’t want to play games.”
“It’s all games, but that’s not what I’m about to tell you.” Tomas’s accent thickened at this point. There were only two times Ryan could think of when that happened: when he flirted with a woman and when he was serious. “Women always focus on the wrong things. For instance, no matter what you say, they’re obsessed with their weight. They’re either too skinny or too fat. Mostly they think they’re too fat—even the skinny ones. What they should really be worried about is all the nagging and talking they do, especially when you’re trying to get some rest or watch the game on TV. Or God forbid you’re on a long distance call with your family and can’t give them the attention they think they deserve.” He muttered something in Spanish.
“Is this still about me?”