Free Rex by Beth Michele Page A

kid.” She moves next to me, her eyes suddenly very far away, like she’s lost in a memory. “My dad made it once for my babysitter and me.”
    “Oh yeah?” My shoulders stiffen, that word making me cringe as I try to focus on pouring the oil then dumping the popcorn in the pot. “You and your dad close?”
    “No,” she admits, a crinkle of sadness between her brows, “not at all.” She clears her throat, as if she’s trying to bury the feeling. “What about you? Were you and your dad close?”
    My hand stills on the pot, an exhale of breath leaving me. “Well, we were, but I was only twelve when he died, so….”
    Empathy fills her voice. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
    “Hey, that’s life.” I say it like I’m trying to be hard, as though it doesn’t matter, but it still hurts like hell even now. I didn’t have a whole lot of years with my dad, yet it doesn’t make me miss him any less.
    “No.” Her words are steadfast as she touches my jaw, forcing me to look at her. “That’s the part of life that’s hard. It sucks, and I’m so very sorry.” She holds me captive with her eyes, but it’s too much and I snap my chin away, continuing to shake the pot, trying to forget all the shitty things about my life.
    “I’ll just wait for you in the other room.” There’s hurt in her voice, and I’ve done it again. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m a fucking expert at pushing people away.
    Shit.
    Regretfully, I scrub a hand over my face then walk back out. “Okay.” I carry the bowl of popcorn out to the living room, trying to pretend like nothing happened. “One bowl of incredibly buttered popcorn made to order.” She gives me a slight smile, and I take a seat beside her, holding the bowl out. “Do you want to taste it to see if it meets up to your standards?”
    Her smile grows wider and for some reason I feel a bit better. “That’s pretty good, but it needs more salt.”
    “I knew you were gonna say that,” I reply, producing the salt shaker I was hiding. “Here you go. Have at it.”
    I grab the remote and flip the movie on, both of us relaxed, feet kicked up on the coffee table. I’m thankful she’s quiet. I can’t stand talking during a movie, unless it’s me doing the talking. “Enjoying the movie?” I stretch out, hooking an arm over her shoulder. She leans into me and I take a quiet breath, the smell of raspberries radiating from her skin.
    “Yup.” She finishes off the last of the popcorn, then places the bowl on the table. I barely had any, but I don’t care. She resumes her position against my shoulder and we settle back to watch the rest of the movie.
    “I love that movie,” she says as the credits roll. “I think I’ve seen it like ten times.”
    I gulp down the remainder of my water. “That’s a pretty surprising discovery I’ve made about you. What’s next? You gonna tell me you like cowboys and Clint Eastwood movies, too?”
    “Well, speaking of cowboys….” She flexes her toes, grinning at me.
    “Oh no. You don’t, do you?” I ask, throwing the empty bottle onto the table.
    “I was just going to say that the highlight of my day was getting accosted by the naked cowboy in Times Square.”
    “Who?” I’m not sure I like the sound of anyone naked accosting her except me.
    “Oh, right.” She nods her head in understanding. “I forgot you haven’t been back in the city that long. He’s this guy who hangs out in Times Square wearing only cowboy boots, a hat, and briefs. He has a guitar placed over his crotch so it appears that he’s naked.” She points a finger my way, pressing her lips together to squelch a laugh. “Oh my God, you should see the look on your face, it’s priceless.
    “I can’t believe, especially being from around here, that you don’t know who he is. Anyway, we had a bit of a chat. But it was funny because it reminded me of when I first moved here,” she recalls, a reminiscent smile on her lips. “I had