“Please, take my car.”
I immediately open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off.
“It would make me feel a lot better about the whole situation if you would.”
I close my mouth again, frowning.
“We don’t have to make things weird between us. Okay?” He pauses. “I don’t know about you, but I’m really happy to have reconnected with you. David, too. It feels…” He grabs the back of his neck and shrugs. “I don’t know. A little like coming home, I guess.”
My heart.
“And I know it makes you uncomfortable. You don’t like getting handouts. So, I was thinking, and I know how you can pay me back. That way you wouldn’t feel like it’s a free ride.” He smirks at that. “No pun intended.”
I narrow my gaze. “Pay you back,” I repeat. “How?”
Another glance outside to confirm David is on the phone with his wife, and Greg moves in a bit closer. “Be my accountability partner.”
I snort, crossing my arms as I look unabashedly at his ridiculously defined abdomen. “Greg, I hate to break it to you, but I can tell very easily that you make it to the gym just fine on your own.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up at that, and he follows my gaze to his stomach before looking back at me with an arched brow. “That’s not what I meant, but feel free to go on.”
I shove him then, rolling my eyes and turning back to the goulash. I give it a stir as Greg circles me to stand next to the stove.
“Look, the way I see it, we’ve both missed out on life. In different ways, of course, but… Well, you dedicated most of yours to your son and to Josh.”
My hand pauses mid-stir at the mention of his name.
“And I’ve been devoted to med school and now my job at Bayside.”
I frown. “Okay… what does this have to do with anything?”
“Here’s what I’m proposing,” he says, waiting until I look at him to continue. “We make a list. A bucket list of sorts. Things we’ve always wanted to do but never have. And then, we hold each other accountable to actually do those things.” He shrugs. “You’re a little lost, from what you told me, and trying to find yourself again. I need to release work and live a little. We have a mutual goal.”
I frown, tending to the goulash a moment more before replacing the lid. I fold my arms and think on the proposal. “Accountability partners,” I echo. But already, I’m shaking my head. “I don’t know…”
“Of course, you don’t. The last thing you want is someone making sure you get out and do what you want to do because then you actually have to follow through.”
I frown even deeper, and he smirks, stepping closer.
Close.
So close I can smell him over the spices in the air.
“Come on,” he pleads, his eyes searching mine. “Do you honestly have someone who will push you out of your comfort zone and not let you sit on the couch drinking red wine every night?”
I hold my chin up defensively. “I like my wine and couch nights, thank you.”
He chuckles. “And you can still have them. But… with a side of adventure, too.”
I bite my lip, considering.
He does have a point. Without a friend to drag me out of the house, the likelihood of me ever leaving for anything other than errands or school is slim to none. I’m comfortable in my loneliness — perhaps too much so.
But spending time with him? That’s dangerous. He and I both know it.
Seeing that I’m still not convinced, Greg takes a small step back, giving me space. “Besides, you’re dating for the first time really ever,” he reminds me, as if I could forget. “I can help with that, too.”
I lift my brows at that, because though I hate to admit it, I need all the help I can manage in that department.
Still…
“And what can I offer you?” I challenge. “If this is supposed to be about me paying you back for letting me use your car for a while.”
He shrugs. “Ideas. Motivation. Again, accountability. Trust me, if someone doesn’t force my hand, I’ll live and die in that hospital without thinking twice about it.” He pauses, eyes finding mine. “I need you, too.”
My heart stops, kicking back to life with a force that makes me suck in a breath of air.
Did he just say he needs me?
God, why does that feel so nice to hear?
Greg’s eyes catch outside, and he stands a little straighter, giving me more space and telling me without words that David is on his way back inside.
“So,” he says, extending his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
I stare at his hand like it’s a bomb that will detonate the moment I touch it, but somehow, for some unknown reason, I find my hand slipping into its embrace.