“No, I’m not.”
“For a girl like me? Believe me, you’re a little scary. This is probably the first time I’ve ever spent an evening with a guy who talks about stomping on people’s heads in bar fights or pinning his father against the wall.”
“Or has been arrested. Or went to a psychiatric facility…”
“Those things, too.”
“And?”
She brushed at a few windblown strands of hair. “I’m still deciding. Right now, I have no idea what to think about everything you’ve said. But if I suddenly take off running, don’t try to catch me, okay?”
“Fair enough.”
“Did you tell any of this to Serena?”
“No,” he said. “Unlike you, she didn’t ask.”
“But would you have?”
“Probably.”
“Of course you would.”
“How about we talk about you instead? Would that make you feel better?”
She cracked a wry smile. “There’s not much to tell. I told you a little about my family; you know I grew up here and went to UNC and Duke Law School, and that I work as a lawyer. My past isn’t quite as… colorful as yours.”
“That’s a good thing,” he said. Somehow already on the same wavelength, they turned simultaneously and started back.
“Okay,” she said, and when he laughed, she stopped for a moment, suddenly wincing. Reaching for his arm to steady herself, she lifted one foot from the sand. “Give me a second here. My sandals are killing me.”
He watched as she slipped them off. When she finally let go of his arm, he felt the lingering afterglow of her touch. “Better,” she said. “Thanks.”
They began walking again, more slowly this time. On the roof at Crabby Pete’s, the crowd was growing, and he suspected that other bars were filling up as well. Above them, most of the stars had been washed away by moonlight. In the easy silence, he found himself admiring her features: her cheekbones and her full lips, the sweep of her lashes against her flawless skin.
“You’re very quiet,” he observed.
“I’m just trying to digest everything you told me. It’s a lot.”
“No question,” he agreed.
“I will say that you’re different.”
“In what way?”
“Before I took a job here, I was an assistant district attorney in Charlotte.”
“No kidding?”
“A little over three years. It was my first job after I passed the bar.”
“So you were more used to prosecuting guys like me than dating them?”
She half nodded in agreement, but went on. “It’s more than that. Most people pick and choose the way they tell their stories. There’s always a positive bias involved, and they frame the stories that way, but you… You’re so objective, it’s almost like you’re describing someone else.”
“Sometimes it feels that way to me, too.”
“I don’t know if I could do that.” Frowning, she went on. “Actually, I don’t know if I want to do that, at least to the extent that you do.”
“You sound like Evan.” He smiled. “How did you like working in the DA’s office?”
“In the beginning it was all right. And the whole thing was a great learning experience. But after a while, I realized it wasn’t what I thought it would be.”