Chapter 3
Vic was waiting in a booth when I arrived. He didn’t notice me at first, even with the jingling of a string of bells tied to the door. Instead, he stared out the plate-glass window, absently stroking the growth of stubble he perpetually wore from too many hours at the hospital.
“You need a shave.” I didn’t really think so; I thought he looked delicious, sleepy, and perfect.
He smiled, turning to reach out and tangle our fingers together. “Hey, there.”
Part of me hoped he’d pull me down for a quick kiss. It was that insecure part of me still feeling my way around our relationship after more than a year. I hated that part of me, so when he didn’t, I bent down and kissed him instead.
“So, what’s going on? Seems like you might have preferred about eight hours’ sleep to grilled c
