Ash smirked. “Maybe I’m just distracting you from your problems. You’re an ogler. You can’t cry when you’re ogling.” He stretched out his arms. “Take your fill, Breslin.”

She gave him a droll look and soundly blew her nose into his T-shirt. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction of an ogle.”

“Liar. Made you look.” He tugged her hand. “Come on. It’s getting chilly out here. Someone stole my shirt.”

She followed him to the back door and up the stairs to the apartment. She hated to admit that he’d been right. She had ogled. And he had distracted her. She should not find Ash that distracting. She made a mental note to buy him a new T-shirt and tried to shrug off that disconcerting sensation she got every time she looked at him lately.

When they got upstairs, she found the apartment much more organized than the last time she’d seen it. The boxes had been put away. A few personal items were out. And his laptop was on the table, the screen saver on, and a mug of something sitting next to it. The window was open next to the laptop. He’d probably had quite a view of her losing her shit on the sidewalk.

She sent him a look. “Were you spying on me, Ashton Isaacs?”

Ash walked over to his dresser and pulled out another T-shirt, a blue one this time. He tugged it over his head and turned around. “I wasn’t spying. I went for a walk to try to clear my head and figure out this scene I’m trying to write. I happened to see you and Marco drive up as I was making my way back.”

“How much did you see?” she asked, shutting his front door behind her and setting her purse on the counter.

He went into the small kitchen and filled an electric kettle with water, keeping his back to her. “I hung back because I didn’t want to interrupt. But I saw a little. Sorry.”

“Stalker.” But she couldn’t work up any ire behind the insult.

He turned after plugging in the kettle and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “So, care to tell me why this ‘great’ guy who took you on a date and kissed you good night ended up making you cry?”

Kincaid let out a weary sigh as she walked over and sat in one of the chairs at the table. “He didn’t make me cry. It was the barn owls.”

Ash’s expression didn’t change, as if he was used to Kincaid saying things that made no sense. “Barn owls.”

“Yes. Did you know they mate for life?” she asked, running her finger along a small gash in the wooden table that had gone smooth with time.

“I didn’t.”

“Me neither.” She looked over at him. “And apparently if one of them dies, the other basically goes into a depression and just gives up, like literally making itself die, too.”

“Damn.” Ash grimaced. “That’s harsh.”