Page 40 of Something Spontaneous

“What?” he says, that confused expression only growing. He’s in some kind of daze because the sponge falls from his hand and splatters water onto his sneakers.

I know my outfit is on the skimpier side, but outside of the tattoos I’ve collected over the years, Sly has seen my naked body before so I don’t get why he’s reacting like this. For the first time since I returned, I see a glimpse of that boy from all those years ago. He looks like that shy, kind, innocent boy I was head over heels for.

I cross my arms and roll my eyes, noticing he’s starting at my chest. I snort a laugh because that part of him clearly hasn’t changed. He was always obsessed with my tits, and I guess that wasn’t just a teenage trait.

“Eyes are up here, Sly,” I say, crooking a finger back at my face. I don’t think there are enough words to express how satisfying it feels to say that after I was worried he was going to say that to me.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, still acting like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sorry.”

I look away from him—glad our weird staring exchange is over, at least for now—and toward his car. It was Sly’s sixteenth birthday when his dad brought home that old muscle car. Back then it needed so much work, but it looks perfect now. The chrome trim is polished so well, I could use it as a mirror, and the flawless red paint job looks like it takes a lot of work to keep it looking that good.

I take a step toward the car. “Wow, it turned out great. Surprised you went with red.” I peek at him over my shoulder and he gives me a puzzled look. He’s being weird, even for him.

“Why’s that a surprise?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Always thought you’d go with black or something boring. Not something flashy.”

He grunts.

“Well, I like it,” I say, nodding my approval.

“Me too,” he says, stepping beside me, both staring at the hood that’s still covered in soapy water. “By the time I was done with it, I kept thinking I needed more red in my life.”

I narrow my eyes at him, not sure what to make of that admission or his shit today.

I let out an amused hum. “Interesting.”

His eyes bore into mine again, and I look anywhere but back at him.

I finally settle on his high-top sneakers, the one place around him I can probably safely look. “Nice sneakers, by the way. Did those come in the same bulk pack as the sweats?”

I smirk up at him, but he doesn’t seem amused. He continues to give me that thousand-mile stare, not saying anything either, which only adds to the tension.

“Hey,” Grace calls out from the other end of the car, where she’s standing with Sisi. The interruption mercifully ends this awkward exchange. She hitches a thumb over her shoulder, pointing at Maribel’s across the street. “I was going to grab some sandwiches for our hike. Want to come with? Sisi said you’re the expert.”

I start to walk toward her and Sisi, leaving Sly at my back. “Good call. I’m sure we’ll work up an appetite.”

Sisi tips her chin to her brother behind me. “I need to grab some waters to throw in my pack from the office fridge. I’ll meet up with you in a few.”

I’ve learned that life can throw tough choices at you when you least expect them. Those challenges can also be a welcome distraction.

Like today, do I want my usual—the everything bagel sandwich—or do I want to change things up and do something random, like go with the chicken salad on wheat? Or maybe I really want to do something crazy and order a Reuben on Maribel’s secret recipe rye bread.

I don’t think there’s a wrong choice. All of them will make a great lunch when we reach the top of the Silver Peak trail, but the decision-making process is a welcome distraction from my hot ex, and whatever his deal was, just now.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” Grace says, pulling my attention away from the chalkboard menu.

“Oh, the menu? It’s all good. Get whatever calls to you, Grace.”

She raises her brows in a knowing look. “No, not that, because I’m definitely getting the Reuben.”

“I was thinking about getting that too! Maybe we should get two different sandwiches and split them? You get the Reuben, and I’ll⁠—”

“Josie,” she says calmly, still wearing that knowing look.

I shrug. “Okay, two Reubens then.”

She squares herself to me and leans against the counter. “It.”