“Fake stood up by a former elementary school bully, no dinner, and now I’m getting pity-walked home by a man who’s already been crossed off the list. It’s enough to make a girl feel a little pathetic.”

Despite the balmy evening, John felt the blood prick coldly out of his face, his fingertips tingling in his pockets. His heart was no longer an accordion. It was simply a kicked-in shoebox vibrating idiotically in the empty hole of his chest.

Crossed off the list.

Ouch.

Welp, it wasn’t going to get much clearer than that.

“IT’S NOT A pity walk,” John said stiffly, glaring down at Mary. She internally sighed.

Apparently, they were back to the surliness. He’d already been a little bit aloof, his manner a bit distant and his eyes refusing to settle on her. But now that V between his eyebrows was back, his mouth turning down. Had she offended him? Was he bored with this whole thing? Was he resenting the obligation to walk her home?

Deciding she was not going to make decoding the complicated manner of John Modesto-Whitford her full-time job, Mary merely took his statement at face value and decided not to dwell. If he wanted to stew, he could stew. He was a grown man.

“Okay.”

Mary’s phone gave a short little bark in her purse, making her glance quickly up at John, hoping he hadn’t heard it.

“Did your phone just woof?”

No such luck.

“Yes,” she admitted, a little embarrassed. “It’s a bark. I think it’s supposed to sound like a fox. It’s a notification for an app I just started using.”

“Do foxes bark?” he asked, squinting seriously down at her as she played with the zipper of her purse, refusing to check her phone.

“Beats me.”

Her phone barked again into the silence that had fallen between them.

“What’s the app?” he asked after a minute, as if determined to keep the conversation going. She wasn’t sure why things were so stilted between them right now. Maybe he really, truly hadn’t wanted to come tonight.

“It’s called Silver Fox.” She blushed profusely. “It’s for meeting older men.”

She felt those alarmingly blue eyes on the side of her face. He didn’t say anything for a beat. Maybe he was thinking about how great it was that she’d started dating in her own age bracket. Maybe he was thinking how pathetic it was to date through an app.

“You know,” he said after a minute, a strange twist in his two-toned voice, “I never got into the dating app thing. Although, now that I’m thinking about it, that might be the explanation for my oh-so-stellar track record with women.”