It wasn’t the reaction Kyle was going for, but since he’d not only stood her up for dinner last Saturday but stuck her with the likes of his brother, he tried to take it with good grace. “This is so typical,” Belinda crowed, biting into the pretzel he’d bought her. She shook the lengths of her ironed-flat black hair out of her face enough to keep it out of her food. Few things were allowed to come between Belinda and her meals. Rail thin and strong as an ox, she apparently burned off all her calories hefting pieces of metal around her nearby loft. “What is?” He tore into his own hot twist. Buttery, salty flavor filled his senses, giving him his only comfort of the day. She’d been right about fresh pretzels hitting the spot. He’d taken a rare day off work for a little bit of introspection on his situation with Jessica. He knew he’d made positive progress, but he had the sense he’d painted himself into a corner with this convenient-lover thing.
