After breakfast, we went for a walk. Bronte counted our steps beneath her breath. Sometimes she’d forget, distracted by our conversation, and had to start over. It was more cute than annoying. Despite her quirks, I liked being with her. She didn’t ask questions I didn’t want to answer. Best of all, she didn’t know the complicated history that went along with Amy’s death.

At the High Street bridge, she touched my arm. “Hang on a second. I want to feed the ducks.” She dug through her purse for change to purchase food from the machine.

I found four quarters in my pocket and handed them to her. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She jogged to the square metal vending box. While her back was turned, I stole a moment to admire the way her tight yoga pants clung to her round ass. God bless the person who invented yoga pants. It had to be a man.

She returned with a bag of brown pellets and offered a handful to me. I shook my head, preferring to watch her toss the food at the birds. Her delight was infectious. She laughed as the birds fought and squawked. When the food was gone, we leaned our elbows on the guardrail. Below us, ducks and swans glided over the smooth water and flapped their wings in triumph over a free meal.

It was so easy to be with her. No expectations. No idle chit-chat. Long stretches of silence passed between us, but they were neither awkward nor uncomfortable. Most women either pitied me or wanted to fix me, but with Bronte, I could relax. She seemed satisfied with my company and unruffled by my frequent bouts of introspection.

“Mondays are pretty busy for me at work,” I said as we walked back to her apartment. “But would you want to have lunch on Tuesday? If it’s nice, we could meet in the park across the street from our offices.”

“Okay. Sure.” We didn’t look at each other, but our shoulders brushed, sending a tingle up my arm. She paused to rub her bicep. “We can brown bag it.”

“Perfect.” I walked her to the doorstep and hovered while she found her keys. This wasn’t a date, but I had the urge to kiss her. “Bronte, wait.” She looked up at me with startled blue eyes. Something about her was so innocent, but she carried a layer of sadness below the surface. I brushed the back of my fingers over her cheek then leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry I puked on your floor and the whole naked thing. You’re a good sport.”

A crimson tide swept up her neck. “You’re forgiven. Especially about the naked part.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“Yes.” A broad smile lit up her face, chasing away the underlying sadness. It warmed my heart to know I’d been able to return the favor and distract her from her sorrows.

“So, I’ll see you around noon on Tuesday?”

“Bye.” She paused inside the door to lift a hand. I trotted down the steps to the sidewalk. When I turned around, she’d already disappeared.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and strode down the street. Tall trees shaded the avenue, their leaves beginning to turn bright shades of yellow and orange. It was going to be a great day. While I walked, my thoughts turned to Bronte. I liked waking up with her. She’d felt good—right—in my arms. My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. I checked the caller ID—Carter.

“What?” I asked and braced for a lecture.

“Man, I need you to come get me.” His voice sounded distant, strained.

“Is everything okay?” I stopped walking, to the great consternation of the couple behind me. I nodded apologetically and stepped to the side so they could pass. “You’d better not be in jail.”

“I’m not in jail. I lost my wallet, and I need a ride. Just do me this favor and don’t ask any questions. I’ll explain later. And bring some pants.”

* * *

I caught a cab back to my apartment, grabbed a T-shirt and sweats from the closet, and threw them into my car. The address Carter gave was on the northwest side of town. The houses were small and covered with peeling paint. Broken cement jutted up from the sidewalks. I circled the block twice but didn’t see him.

I hit redial on my phone. He answered on the first ring. “I’m here,” I said. “Where are you?”

“Park in the alley next to the Chinese restaurant.”

“I swear to God, if this is one of your jokes, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Just do it.”

I turned into the alley. It was narrow and dark, the kind of place where drug deals went down. Carter emerged from behind a Dumpster, naked from head to toe. He held a garbage can lid over his midsection. I threw open the door, and he dove inside.

“Fuck me, I’m having a bad day,” he said, swiping a hand over his face. “You’re the best, man. I owe you big time for this.”

“You want to explain?” I tossed the clothes at him.

“That girl at the bar last night? Turns out she was married. Her husband came home in the middle of the night. I had to hide on the fire escape all fucking night. The witch kept my clothes and my wallet. I would’ve went after them, but he was big. Really big.” He stabbed his legs into the sweatpants and hauled them up to his waist. “Stop laughing.”

I pulled the car to the curb at the next intersection and doubled over to hold my aching ribs. Carter stared at me, a scowl on his face, while I laughed until tears ran down my face. “I’m sorry, but it’s pretty funny.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “Okay, so, yeah. It is.” That was the thing about Carter—nothing ever fazed him. He had some kind of invisible force field around his self-confidence. “How about you? How’d you do?”

“I did fine, no thanks to you. Fucker.” The thought of the girl at the bar made my stomach turn, especially after holding Bronte in my arms. “You left me there.”

He punched my shoulder playfully. “You had it all under control. That chick was hot.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the last time I’m listening to you.”

“Oh my God. Don’t tell me you spent the night alone again?”

“Not exactly.”

“Anyone I know?” Carter sat up in his seat, eyes wide and alert. “Details, please.”

For some reason, I couldn’t tell him about Bronte. Our relationship seemed too personal to share with anyone, and I didn’t want Carter deconstructing my motives for being with her. “Just a friend.”

“Friend? Fuck that shit.” He shoved back in the seat and shook his head. “Are you gay? I’m serious. You’re either gay or the weirdest dude I’ve ever met.”

“You know I’m not gay. Don’t be a dick.” I gave him a sidelong smirk. “Besides, I’m not listening to the advice of a guy who spent the night naked on a fire escape.”

Carter considered this for a second then nodded. “Fair enough.” His gaze turned to the window. “Remember back in high school? It was raining pussy back then. You couldn’t walk down the street without some girl hitting on you. What happened to that guy?”

“I met Amy,” I said. I hadn’t thought about her in hours, but just like that, she was back in my life.