He had an armful of dog food, so she stepped back to let him through. Before, he would’ve stolen a kiss and nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck. Remembered pleasure curled through her, chased by an ache that it was lost. She didn’t intend to speak, but that seemed churlish. Though the effort might kill her, she would be better than that. So she fixed a fake smile in place while he stacked the supplies, and said, “Everything all right?” “That a joke?” “No.” She was surprised to find that true. “We’re still friends. It didn’t work out between us, but that doesn’t mean I stopped caring what happens to you.” “Too sweet for your own good,” he said softly. “Ought to hate me. Wish—” “Don’t. Don’t say it.” Hurt and longing swamped her in equal measure, and she wasn’t strong enough to go down that road with him again. “Please don’t make me think about it.” It hadn’t been nearly long enough for her to forget. He let out a slow breath, and she had the unmistakable impression he hurt as badly as she did.
