Liz and I decided to head over to Roberto’s to grab some lunch. We sat down with my rolled tacos and her enchilada at a stone table facing the street.
“How’s Carter?” she asked.
“Better,” I told her. “Saw him yesterday. He’s getting antsy.”
She stabbed the enchilada with her plastic fork. “Big surprise there.”
“He’ll probably be out in another day or two.”
She set her fork down and wiped her mouth with the paper napkin. “You tell him?”
“Tell him what?”
“That Elvis lives.” She rolled her eyes. “About you and me.”
I laughed. “Oh. I didn’t know there was a you and me. Yet.”
“I don’t either. Yet. Just wondering if you opened your big mouth.”
I finished off the first of the tacos. “He sorta guessed.”
“You guys are like a couple of sorority girls,” she said, shaking her head.
“A little, yeah.” I bit into another of the tacos. “So, is there a you and me?”
A Harley went ripping down Mission, the engine tearing into the air. We watched it zip past us.
“Last time didn’t go so well,” Liz said.
“Nope.”
“I’m not looking for that to happen again.”
“Me either.”
She finished off the enchilada and pushed the paper boat away from her. “I can’t guarantee that it won’t.”
“Me either.”
She leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “You were the last person I expected to see show up at my house the other night. In fact, if you’d asked to come over, I probably would’ve told you no.” She touched her index finger to her lips for a moment, a gesture that I knew meant she was measuring her words. “But I’m not disappointed that you came over, I’m not disappointed that you spent the night, and I’m not disappointed that we’re sitting here.”
“I hate to disappoint.”
“Could be complicated,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “My job, your job. We’ve each wanted to tear the other’s head off just in the last week.”
“I never wanted to tear your head off,” I said. “Maybe kick it once or twice.”
“Exactly. Could be complicated.”
“Is this your way of not giving me an answer?”
She smiled and tilted her head. “I’m a bitch. No doubt about it. You said so yourself. I’m not gonna change.”
“I’m not asking you to,” I said.
“Plus, I hate Carter.”
I grinned. “You say you hate Carter, but you really don’t.”
“Most of the time, I’m pretty sure I do.”
“He doesn’t hate you.”
She pointed at me. “If there is a me and you, that is your first official lie during the new me-and-you era.”
I waved a hand in the air. “Most people have trouble with Carter. I’m better than most.”
That earned an outright laugh. “If you do say so yourself.”
“And I do.”
We sat there looking at each other, the remnants of lunch dirtying the table between us. She may have been a pain in the ass, she may have been unreasonable, and she may have been hardheaded. She probably thought I was all those things, too. But I enjoyed being with Liz. She knew me differently than other people did, and I liked the intimacy of that. I struggled to feel comfortable with many people in the world, but with her, it happened easily. And to top it all off, she had never been unattractive. I was a sucker for blue eyes and black hair, and her blue eyes and black hair were better than most.
“Okay,” she said finally.
“Okay?”
“We’ll try the me and you thing.” She aimed a finger in my direction. “Try not to screw it up.”
“Same to you,” I said.