I shoved the restroom door open with enough force to have it rebounding back at me. So I gave it another bad-tempered push on my way in. It was one of those bathrooms that was decked out to be soothing and spa-like with caramel colored tiles all the way up the wall and a fancy sink that looked like a trough.

Peering in the mirror, I wondered how in the hell I’d sunk to this level. I was a good person. A law-abiding citizen, a squeaky-clean deputy sworn to uphold the law, an excellent daughter, a good friend…despite what some might say. I’d gone to college. I donated to food drives and fire station roof funds. I paid my taxes.

So what bad karma led me to this mirror in this restaurant on this shitty date where Bowie Bodine of all people got to witness my humiliation?

Something needed to change.

I’d name my cats Smokey and Bandit, I decided. I’d figure out how to cook and host elaborate dinners for friends. I’d learn Italian. I’d have strings-free sex with handsome, sexy, STD-free gentlemen. I would be the cool aunt. If June ever got over her disinterest in people. Gosh darn it, I would have a rich, full life all by myself and never again subject myself to the Baxters of the world. Or the Bowies.

The restroom door opened and closed quietly.

“Cassidy, right?” Bowie’s perky, adorable date asked. She barely came to my shoulder in her cute wedge boots.

“Yeah,” I said warily. Usually when female strangers approached you in the bathroom it wasn’t good.

She joined me at the mirror, opening her small clutch and pulling out lipstick. “He mentioned you on our first date.”

First date? They’d gone on more than one date? I hated the icy wave of pain that ran through me. He wasn’t mine anymore. He had never been mine.

“I grew up with his little sister,” I mumbled, making a show of washing my hands.

“Yeah, that’s what he said. But here’s the thing.” She reapplied her already perfect lipstick and slipped it back in her bag. “It was the way he said it.”

“What way?”

“Like you were special. Important. Who brings up a little sister’s friend on a first date? Girl to girl, that man out there has some big, scary feelings for you.”

“I don’t understand.” I dropped all pretense of washing my hands for a third time. “He told me in no uncertain terms years ago that I was nothing but another little sister to him.”

Shut the fuck up, Cassidy! Mayday! Mayday!

I turned back to the mirror. “I’m sorry. You’re his date. I shouldn’t be saying any of this.”

Erin sighed. “Look, no matter what he said, the way he looks at you says something entirely different. He looks at you like you’re the center of everything.”

I looked down at the soap suds in the sink. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t play second fiddle. No matter how cute the conductor is.”

“Are you warning me off? Because we’re next-door neighbors. It’s hard to avoid each other. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

She smiled. Damn it. She had a dimple in her right cheek. “I’m not warning you off. I’m letting you know that my date has some powerful feelings for you, and I’m going to go back out there, make an excuse, and leave you two to what should have been your date.”

“I’m here on a date,” I reminded her. A date from hell.

“The way Bowie was laying into Mr. Shithead when I left the table, I doubt he’ll be much of an obstacle.”

She started for the door, then paused. “Good luck out there.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

She gave me another smile, and I immediately pictured her at the top of a pyramid at a football game. “Maybe I’m a romantic at heart. Or maybe I’m just annoyed it wasn’t me he was looking at that way. Either way, there’s a tall, sexy drink of water at the bar I might let buy me a drink,” she mused.

“I spent most of my life thinkin’ I’d marry him,” I confessed as she turned.

“Maybe it’s time y’all get started on that.” With those parting words, Erin floated out of the restroom.

I took another couple of minutes to breathe cleansing breaths and repair my armor. I didn’t know if what Erin was saying was true or if I wanted it to be true. To be honest, I didn’t have the energy to consider either option. I wanted to go home. Alone.

Bracing myself, I returned to the dining room and found my table empty except for the stuffed mushroom caps Baxter had ordered. Even his toothpick was gone. Bowie was staring pensively into his beer and looked up when I approached. Erin was nowhere to be seen, and a quick peek at the bar showed that neither was the hottie she’d mentioned.

Good for her.

“Where’d Baxter go?” I asked.

“He had an emergency,” Bowie said. I knew he was lying because he squinted just a little bit. The corners of his eyes crinkling up. The first time I caught that tell was when he was desperately trying to cover his slip-up about there being no Santa Claus.

I flopped down in my chair.

“He was my ride home.” I guessed I was about to find out how expensive Ubering back to Bootleg was.

“I’ll take you home,” Bowie said.

“Where’s Erin?” I asked, ignoring his offer.

“She had an emergency, too.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

I picked up my wine and stared down at the appetizer. Everything sucked.

“Come on now. Don’t look like that, Cass. You know it kills me to see you sad,” Bowie coaxed.

“Oh, now you care how I feel? Even though I’m a ‘shitty friend?’” I shot back.

“I was mad,” he said simply.

“Yeah, well, now I’m mad.”

He rose from his chair and took Baxter’s vacated one. “I’m sorry, Cassidy.”

I tried looking everywhere but his face.

He leaned in, helped himself to a mushroom cap. “Now, it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“To apologize.”

I could actually feel my nostrils flare. “I’m not going to apologize for doing my job.”

“No. But you could apologize for the fact that doing your job hurt us.”

“I already apologized to Scarlett,” I sniffed.

“You hurt me, Cass.”

Crap. Crap. Crap.

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” I asked quietly.

He rested his elbows on the table. “You live next door. You’re part of my family. I’m not going to let this fester between us. We’re too important to each other.”

I swallowed hard and poked at a mushroom with my fork. Erin’s words popped into my mind in big bold font. But I’d opened myself up once to those kinds of possibilities with Bowie and had to pick my devastated self up off the floor when the door slammed shut in my face.

He’d never know how much he hurt me that day all those years ago. I’d vowed it then and I reminded myself now. Part of that meant being cordial now. Not taking out old hurts on him.

One deep breath and I took the plunge for the good of the many. “I’m sorry that what I did hurt you,” I said. I chanced a look up at him. He reached out and stroked a finger over the knuckles of my hand. It was so different from Baxter’s sweaty pawing. So intimate. So stirring.

Damn it. Think about cats!

“I accept your apology,” he said.

“You don’t have to drive me home,” I said, changing the subject. His finger was still running the mountains and valleys of my knuckles.

“We live together,” he said dryly. “It would be stupid not to go home together.”

“All right. But I’ll pay you gas money.” I wasn’t about to start owing Bowie anything again.

“Since we’re here, why don’t we grab a bite before we go.”

Not a date. Not a date. Not a date. Do not think of this as a date.

And I was hungry. Starving actually. “Since we’re here.”

The waiter returned and cast a baleful eye at the now abandoned second table.

“Change of plans,” Bowie said.

“Musical chairs,” I added.

We ordered and sat in awkward silence for several moments. The tables around us filled with happy couples and loud parties. Everyone enjoying the night except for us. I’d known this man my entire life but couldn’t seem to find the words for small talk.

Bowie had never been one for small talk.

“So where did Baxter really go?” I asked.

His lips quirked, and he squinted at me.

“And before you say anything, you do know that I can tell when you’re lying, don’t you?”

“No you can’t,” he argued amicably.

“Try me,” I encouraged.

“I hate oysters.”

No squint. “True.”

“Hm. I think football is overrated.”

“False. Come on, really test me,” I told him.

He paused, studying me. “I think you look real pretty tonight,” he said finally.

No squint.

I shoveled a mushroom cap into my face to buy myself some time. I had fallen for this once before. Bowie being nice to me did not mean he was attracted to me. I’d learned it the hard way. Where this man was concerned, my instincts were garbage. “True. But I already knew that I looked good. Is that all you’ve got?”

“I think they should bring back Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” he announced.

“Hmm. True. And I agree.” I nodded my approval.

“Erin left because she thinks you and I have feelings for each other.”

I wasn’t sure which one of us was more surprised by the statement.

“Why did Baxter leave?” I asked again. Softly this time.

“Because he wasn’t good enough for you. When are you gonna stop wasting your time on these assholes and find someone who deserves you, Cass?”