One tiny tug downward, and…

“So what’s with the midlife crisis?” he asked, taking a sip of wine and sitting in the chair across from the couch. Distance felt really important right about now.

“Why does everyone keep calling it that?” she asked with a frown. “Do you all think I’m going to die at sixty-two?”

“With all the organic shit that you eat, and nine thousand fitness classes? I doubt it.”

“I quit my job today,” she announced, taking a too-big sip of wine.

Will was careful to keep his face bland even as he felt a little flare of panic. “Oh?”

She took another sip of wine. “Well, not quit quit. Just…a sabbatical.”

He relaxed slightly. Not because he cared about whether or not she ever went back to orthodontics again, but because he didn’t want her making any decisions when she was all torn up over a guy. At least he was pretty sure that’s what it was, but damn if he’d ask. She’d come this far. She’d have to come a little bit further.

“And what do you plan to do during this sabbatical?”

She narrowed her eyes at him slightly. “You’re being nice. Why are you being nice?”

Because you’re broken. “Just checking out your new look.”

“Oh.” She glanced down at herself before running a nervous hand through her short hair. “You like it?”

“It’s different.”

Brynn held out her glass for a refill. “That’s what people say when they think something’s awful and they’re trying to be polite.”

“When have I ever been polite?” he asked.

“True. Can I have more wine? What kind is it? It’s good.”

He stood to head toward the kitchen and ignored her question. “Why is it that you seem to need to be drunk in order to be in my presence?”

“Not drunk. Although I have been having a lot of wine lately. Just…I dunno. Look, I live like twenty steps away. And if I have a little headache tomorrow, it’s not your problem.”

Will obediently went to the fridge for the bottle. Two glasses wouldn’t kill her, but no way was he going to let her get drunk. That was the easy way out.

“So when did he dump you?” he asked bluntly as he refilled her glass.

To his surprise, she didn’t even flinch. “Last Wednesday.”

He eyed her closely as he topped off his own glass. “You seem…okay with it.”

Brynn flopped back on the couch, and to his relief, she didn’t immediately dive into the wine. “Of course I’m not okay with it. I thought I was going to marry the guy.”

Something clenched in Will’s chest but he forced himself not to move. “I take it he had other plans?”

“Your way of asking if there was someone else?”

Yes. “No.”

“He didn’t cheat,” she said, looking down at her black-painted nails as though surprised they belonged to her. “But he ‘met someone.’ This crazy, dumpy woman who’s not at all his type.”

Will gave a slight nod. “Those are always the ones that get you.”

Her eyes locked on his. “Have you ever had one of those? A woman that’s not your type, I mean?”

You have no idea.

“I don’t know that I have a type,” he replied.

“That’s true. You’ve always been of the if it has boobs I’m on it mentality.”

Will hid his wince. Her tone was so matter-of-fact, and she wasn’t entirely wrong. Based on what she’d seen of his behavior over the years, he did seem to pant over anything with the right reproductive parts.

“For what it’s worth, you’re better off without him,” he said, trying to redirect the conversation back to her.

Brynn narrowed her eyes. “What’s the catch? That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“Just because I don’t like you, doesn’t meant I can’t like Jimmy less.”

She gave a little laugh at that. A soft, self-depreciating, tiny laugh, but she wasn’t busting his balls or getting huffy or throwing her wineglass at him just for being alive.

Could this be…progress?

“So what’s next in this little crisis?” he asked, gesturing at her with his wineglass. “Piercings? Motorcycle? Tattoo?”

To his surprise, her face lit up at the last one. “A tattoo! Do you think I should get one?”

Oh no. She was worse off than he’d thought.

“Well, you know…those are kind of…permanent.” Will shifted uncomfortably at being put in the role of the responsible one. “Do you think this, um…phase is permanent?”

“Oh gosh, no,” she said, running a hand over her newly dark hair and taking a little sip of wine. “This is just a month-long hiatus to clear my head and get back on track. A vacation. But it would be good to have a little reminder, don’t you think?”

“How about a little less forever kind of reminder? Like…spiky earrings or a charm bracelet or something? Hell, you could just put those trampy clothes under your bed when you’re done with them, and use those as your memento.”

But Brynn wasn’t paying attention. She had that thoughtful-Brynn expression, which usually meant she was cataloging her dry cleaning, but apparently this time meant tattoo deliberation.

“Maybe just a little quote on my ankle, like seize the day, or something,” she said excitedly.

“Or, hell, why not just go for a huge tarantula tramp stamp? Or a python crawling up your torso.” He snapped his finger as though enlightened. “Wait, no. How about that ridiculous life list scrawled across your butt?”

Brynn sniffed. “For the record, that list is retired for a few weeks. But even if it weren’t it would never fit on my butt. It’s much too extensive and detailed…”

He shook his head. “This isn’t happening, right? We’re not actually having this conversation?”

“Oh, come on. Of all people, I thought you’d get behind my little rebellion.”

Will’s hand paused briefly as he brought the wineglass to his mouth. “Is that why you’re here? Because I’m the only person in your life that won’t freak out because you’ve gone off the deep end?”

“Sophie would be pissed if she heard you talking right now,” Brynn replied, sitting up straight and setting her wineglass on the end table that she’d picked out. “She’d totally kill to see me through this little transformation. She’s only been pushing for me to let loose for about a decade now.”

“So why aren’t you at Soph’s, then?” he asked, standing and grabbing both their glasses before heading to the kitchen. She’d barely touched her second glass, but he needed to do something with his hands to keep them off her.

Brynn trotted after him. “Well, let’s see…It’s a Tuesday, so she must be having copious amounts of sex with Gray.”

“How did you know I wasn’t having copious amounts of sex before you barged in here?”

Brynn leaned her forearms on the counter and studied him. “Lucky guess. You haven’t had any women over since moving in.”

He arched a brow at her. “Spying?”

“Observant. So what gives? You haven’t been this celibate since the womb. Waiting for some STD medication to kick in?”

Why do you care?

“Why are you really here, Brynn?” he asked. It felt strange to cut through the bullshit with her. They were all about the bullshit. But he didn’t know his way around this new Brynn. And losing his footing now would completely derail his plan.

“I wanted to talk. And you live next door.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

Will crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter before making a rude buzzing noise. “That’s not it. Try again.”

Brynn licked her lips slightly. Lips that were just a shade brighter than her usual look, and more kissable than ever. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Yes, you do.

He itched to go to her, but he had to know what she was after first. Jogging her memory seemed a good place to start. He let his eyes go slightly sleepy as they raked over her, lingering on her mouth once more. “Really? So you don’t remember the last time we were alone together in a kitchen?”