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  diminish after nine at night, but not in the Mocha. People

  hunched over their refilable mugs, mainlining high-

  powered flavored coffees and clutching at specialty drinks

  as they chatted in smal groups and played board games.

  Soft music, something indie and folksy that would make

  my ears bleed if I paid too much attention to it, drifted out

  of the speakers.

  I spotted Austin right away. His faded denim stood out

  from the rest of the skinny jeans and flat-ironed-hair boys,

  and he didn't wear a speck of guyliner. His hair had grown

  long enough now to pul back in a ponytail at the nape of

  his neck. He was carrying two big cups.

  his neck. He was carrying two big cups.

  When he saw me, his face lit up, so much the way it used

  to that my heart hurt. I swalowed hard against the rush of

  memories threatening to topple me right then and there. He

  handed me a mug and gestured toward a love seat set

  toward the back of the shop.

  "Sit?"

  He asked, didn't tel, so I nodded. "Sure."

  I had time to compare first-date awkwardnesses as he

  folowed me. My dinner with Eric had been thick with

  tension, but with Austin at my back al I could think of was

  how uncomfortable it felt to not know what to say. I sat

  and warmed my hands on the cup, which was almost too

  hot for comfort.

  "You look pretty."

  "Thanks."

  We both sipped. Austin put his mug on the table and dug

  in his pocket for something he held out to me. "Here."

  I didn't take it at first. "What is it?"

  I didn't take it at first. "What is it?"

  He held it out again. "Just something they were giving out

  at the bank when I signed up for a new checking account.

  Made me think of you."

  "Is it money?" I took it, not money but a smal clear plastic bottle.

  Hand sanitizer, the bottle imprinted with the bank logo.

  Just a smal bottle, only enough for one or two uses. I

  clutched it in my palm and didn't know what to say.

  "I thought you'd laugh," Austin said when I didn't make a

  sound. "Shit, Paige. I'm sorry. I just thought—"

  "I know what you thought. Why you thought it." I tucked it into my bag.

  "It's just…you know. Your thing."

  He did know me. I hadn't believed he did. Maybe I hadn't

  wanted to believe.

  "Thank you."

  More awkward silence.

  More awkward silence.

  When he finaly spoke, it was in a man's voice and not the

  familiar voice of the boy I'd falen in love with. It helped, a

  little. Made him more of a stranger than he was, so I could

  keep him just far enough away not to leap into his arms.

  "Paige," Austin said. "I just wanted to tel you that I'm realy sorry."

  I didn't know I was going to touch him until it was too late

  to pul back my hand. His hair was soft beneath my

  fingers, and I let them drift over it and down to tug the

  ponytail he'd never have worn in high school. "Shit

  happens."

  He laughed and looked down. "Yeah. Wel, with us, a lot

  of shit happened, huh?"

  I took my hand away and shrugged. "We were young."

  "Young, dumb…"

  "And ful of come," we finished together, quoting one of

  our favorite movies.

  It felt good to laugh with him. It had been a realy long time

  It felt good to laugh with him. It had been a realy long time

  since we'd sat like this. Beside me, his thigh was big and

  warm. The love seat dipped from his weight, forcing me to

  sit closer whether I wanted to or not. I thought I might

  want to.

  "I just wanted to tel you that." Austin shifted to face me.

  A smart-ass, snotty reply rose to my lips, but didn't come

  out. "You don't have to apologize. We've been divorced

  for years."

  When he reached for my hand, I shouldn't have been

  surprised. It was the perfect moment, after al. Soft music,

  expensive hot drinks, the scent of cheap body spray

  wafting from the gaggle of out-too-late teens in the corner

  and the rise and fal of their laughter al wove a John

  Hughes–film mood. It was the perfect time to have my ex-

  husband kiss my knuckles, look deep into my eyes and

  say, with utmost seriousness,

  "So, I didn't jerk off the other night. Just like you said."

  I yanked my hand from his. "Austin!"

  "What?" He looked genuinely confused. "You said not to."

  "I know what I said." My heart became a bird, my ribs the

  cage it beat against.

  He sat back, frowning, and crossed his arms over a chest I

  couldn't help noticing was broad and muscled under his T-

  shirt. "And?"

  I frowned, too. "I thought you were trying to be nice."

  "I am being nice! I bought you coffee!"

  "You asked me here to get me into bed!" I'd turned heads

  with my raised voice. I stood and glared down at him.

  "That was the only reason?"

  Austin looked guilty. Then he shot me a cunt-seeking

  missile of a grin. "That's not the only reason."

  I jerked my chin at him and flipped my hair. Yeah, very

  high school, but we had a history. "Fuck you."

  "I'm hoping."

  I didn't want to smile or laugh, so I bit down on my

  tongue. Hard. "It's late. I have to work tomorrow. Good

  night, Austin."

  night, Austin."

  I was gone before he could register the fact I meant it.

  What Austin didn't know was that it wasn't that I didn't

  want to take him to bed and screw the living daylights out

  of him. I wanted that very much. But there was a part of

  me, smal though it was, that knew this couldn't be good

  for either one of us.

  We had history, and a past, and al of that meant he knew

  how to push my buttons just right. It didn't mean we

  should keep pushing those buttons. Like Def Leppard

  said, it was time to stop treating each other like an act of

  war.

  I made it al the way to the sidewalk before he was out

  after me. Austin grabbed my elbow and I turned to face

  him, my mouth already open to say something cutting. He

  stopped it with his tongue. He walked me up against the

  bricks, hard on my back. Him hard on my front.

  I pushed him away. "I'm not that easy."

  He puled me closer and kissed me softer. "You could be.

  I know you could be."

  "Austin…" His name eased out of me on a sigh. "This isn't a good idea. Can't we just be friends?"

  "What? Are you shitting me?" His hands gripped my waist,

  but he wasn't pressing me against the wal anymore.

  I sagged against him, my head in the place it fit just right on

  his chest. "No. I'm not."

  His grip tightened on me, then released. I mourned the loss

  of his body when he stepped away from me, even though I

  knew it was for the best. Fucking like tigers had its place,

  no doubt, but I didn't think I could keep surviving the

  scars.

  Austin smoothed my hair off my forehead and hovered his

  mouth over mine without kissing me. "Fine."

  "Yes