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"Doesn't mean we can't be."
"Don't you have things to do?" I looked around me as if a stack of books labeled Things Rock Needs to Do might be laying on a tabletop.
"Nope. I'll hit the gym while you're at work. That'll give me time to make dinner."
"Oh god, please don't cook again."
It was Rock's turn to frown. "I'm an excellent cook."
"Don't you have, like, family to visit with or something?"
"We just did that."
I moved to the kitchen and poured myself another cup of coffee, sticking it in the microwave to reheat. "I mean like, immediate family? You grew up here, didn't you?"
"I did," he confirmed. "Where did you grow up?"
"I see how you avoided answering the question, but I'll let you get away with it because I'm sensing you don't want to talk about it." I took my coffee from the microwave and carried it to the table. "I grew up in Alexandria for the most part. We moved here in high school."
"Why?"
"My dad's mom was sick. He's from here. She died, and we never left."
"So your dad is here."
I nodded.
Rock seemed to think about this for a moment, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Where should we go for lunch? I vote for Solomon's."
The boardwalk at Solomon's Island, which wasn't really an island, had a bunch of water-facing seafood restaurants and bars. It was kind of a tourist spot—as much as tourists came down this far in Maryland. I hadn't been there in years.
"Uh, okay. But I have to be at work at one."
"No problem. We'll go now."
I looked at the clock. It was ten-thirty. "Um."
"Sunday brunch. It's a thing. Let's go. Bring your work stuff." He stood, apparently ready to go.
"Give me a minute." In the bathroom I stared into the mirror. What the hell was happening? I put on a bit of lipstick and brushed out my long dark hair, and decided to just go along with it. At least Rock had quit being a jerk.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, Rock was on the phone with someone, standing in front of the window and staring out into the dense woods as one hand scrubbed through the messy golden-brown hair atop his head.
"No, Sam. Not an all-star situation down here."
A pause.
"Oh, I get it. Well, thanks for that, but not really your business."
Another pause.
"We were friends." He said this sadly, as if this friend, Sam, had lost his trust. "I'll do it. Then I'm going to be considering new representation." He sounded angry, but as soon as he turned and saw me, he grinned. "Let's go!"
It was like Rock had suddenly become a different version of the tall, hunky naked guy I'd first discovered on my couch. He was charming and funny over brunch, and I felt a little bit like I was spending time in a parallel dimension.
"Was that your agent on the phone?" I asked him once our mimosas had arrived.
"Potentially former agent," he said, the cheer in his eyes evaporating.
