“You haven’t had one of them in a long time.” His hand is now on the back of my arm. My elbows are on my knees; my heart is in my throat. He squeezes me gently. “It happens when you feel out of control, remember. That’s what we’ve learned, yeah? And it almost always happens when you haven’t eaten and then you eat. It’s because your blood sugar is rising back to where it belongs. Right?”

That’s not what we’ve learned. That’s not even what I’ve learned.

“Right,” I say anyway, trying to catch my breath, too distracted to ask him what he means by we.

“Is it all the stuff with Aimee or is it … the other thing?”

My head shoots up. “Aimee?”

“Yeah, last I talked to you, you were upset about the Aimee thing again. But I can understand if it’s—”

“How do you know about Aimee?” I furrow my brow and stare into his flawed, beautiful, strangely familiar face.

No one in my life now knows about Aimee. I haven’t been around a soul who knows her name in over a decade, except my parents.

“Well, you told me most. I heard the rest. You know how this town can be. With bloody Kay Donahue running around unchecked.”

He gives a small hint of that smile again, and I can see that it is rare and only earned. Unfortunately, the mention of Aimee has changed everything, and I cannot be distracted by his gritty beauty.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, more muddled than ever. “Why are you acting like you know me?”

The hint of dimples fades completely, and he takes his hand off of me. His honey-gold eyes bore into mine and he says, “It’s going to be like this, is it? It wasn’t my fault what happened, you know.”

I shake my head. “No, no—”

“Forgive me, Meg,” he says, standing. “Thought you needed some help, that’s all.”

He flips the rag over his shoulder and walks back to the bar.

I stand too. “Do you watch the show or—”

He holds his hands up. “Meg, I think you should go home. I don’t know what you’re playing at or what it is that you need, but clearly it’s nothing I have to give. So do me a favor and let me close up. I didn’t mind you coming in here—it’s a business after all—but if you’re going to be like this, then I don’t need that, I really don’t.”

Suddenly my overall confusion gives way to the embarrassment of the moment that’s actually happening. I clear my throat and nod.

“Right. Um. Yeah, of course, sorry ’bout … thank you again for the food. Oh shit—how much do I owe you?”