Keeping Pace by Dee Carney Page A

smiled down on me with Josh. Whatever the reason, I was grateful.
    He moved as if to step over the threshold but stopped himself. The look he gave me wanted to know if the argument was still on. I stepped back, making room for him and letting him know it certainly was not.
    Despite my feelings, the atmosphere around us was awkward. Neither of us spoke as if afraid one word would ruin the mood and we’d go back to the subject that had separated us in the first place. I’m still not sure who owed an apology to whom, or more importantly, if one was even necessary. I’d hurt his ego, but he’d also hurt mine.
    He probably would have been comforted if we discussed Lou and my non-existent relationship with him. The threat Josh saw there didn’t exist. At least, I didn’t think so. Lou had been relegated to the friend role, and it would take a small miracle to push him out of it. The sense of security Lou gave me wasn’t about love, but loyalty. Josh would see that with time, once he set aside his male pride.
    “Want me to get the coffee started?” he asked, pulling me out of reverie. “We have a few minutes yet.”
    “That would be lovely, thanks. And Josh…” An apology teetered on the tip of my tongue, but it righted, staying inside.
    He turned. “Hmm?”
    We’d stopped outside the kitchen. “I’m looking forward to this.”
    Josh studied my face, which probably wasn’t the best he’d ever seen it. I felt bleary-eyed still, and if he wasn’t here, would have turned back to bed. Heck, I still wanted to head upstairs, but we dated so rarely. As if he’d read my mind, he said, “Let’s go out on a real date, Regina. You and me.”
    A bubble of panic hit my belly. He didn’t need to see my reaction, so I started toward the kitchen again. “I like our dates the way they are.”
    “You don’t get tired of being at home all the time?”
    “It’s the life I’ve become accustomed to. Being out in crowds, around other people…” I shrugged. “It just doesn’t appeal to me anymore.”
    We both moved through the kitchen as if part of a choreographed dance, maneuvering around each other without any awkwardness or bumping body parts. Somehow in a few short weeks Josh had become enmeshed into my world. On some level, that bothered me. On another, it left me euphoric.
    “But that was when you were alone. You have me now.”
    I kept my gaze on the filling carafe, my back to him. “Do I?”
    Warm arms embraced me from behind, and his breath brushed my ear. “Yeah, you do.” He slipped away only moments later, before I could relax into his hold. “We’re going to miss it if we don’t move it. The sunrise won’t wait for us.”
    I nodded my agreement and went to work pouring creamer and sugar into my cup. Josh’s cup sat waiting on the coffee. As I reached for the carafe, it struck me that I now thought of the mug with the little chip on the handle as his cup. It was the one he reached for in the mornings, and somehow along the way, I’d associated it with him. Most of the items in the kitchen were bought by me, long before I’d met Josh, but I recognized going forward, at least one cup belonged to him. What else in this house had I assigned to the man I was sleeping with?
    The thought still plagued me when I flicked on the light just outside the door, illuminating a small portion of the deck. Outside, the morning air was cooler than usual. I breathed it in deeply, letting it whisk away the last trace of sleep still in my system. More of nature’s green smell greeted my senses. A few early risers chirped, and I tried to locate the birds in the darkness.
    The deck was slick with dew, but it felt good beneath my bare toes and the fingers I ran along the banister. Behind me, the wood creaked from Josh’s steps, but even that noise didn’t break the serenity surrounding us. There was a stillness to the neighborhood that insisted on quiet whispers, on hushed reverence. It felt like we were intruders into