The simple act of having a date over was so fraught for her. Something other people did without thinking, with an ease they took for granted. She wanted to pretend for a little while that she was capable of it.
“So,” she said, picking up her beer and wanting to keep the distracting conversation going. As long as they were talking, the fantasy could remain and the demons from earlier tonight would stay away, outside in the dark. “Now that I feel totally exposed, I get to poke at you.”
He glanced up, a line appearing between his brows. “I don’t remember agreeing to that kind of deal.”
“You did. Fine print in the contract. Should’ve gotten your lawyer to read through it first before you FBI profiled me.” She tapped her fingernails along the side of her beer bottle, contemplating how best to torture him. “So. How long ago were you engaged to Officer French Braid?”
He coughed, choking on his beer a little. “Officer French Braid? God, she’d hate that nickname.”
“Oh well,” Andi said with a shrug. “How long?”
“Uh, right up until the point I found out she was screwing my best friend.” He instantly winced. Like he hadn’t meant to answer so honestly.
Andi’s expression soured, her beer paused halfway to her mouth. “Ouch. That sucks.”
He cleared his throat, clearly ready to pull the eject cord on this conversation. “Yeah. Wasn’t great. But it’s been about a year.”
She shook her head in sympathy. “Sorry you had to see her tonight.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not that fraught. We’re different people than we were back when we were together, so it’s almost like we’re strangers now.”
Andi pulled her afghan from the back of the couch and draped it over her legs. “What’d she say about me when y’all went outside?”
He glanced toward the front door and then back to her. “How’d you know she said anything?”
Andi barely resisted rolling her eyes. That cop had disliked Andi in an instant. “Had a hunch.”
“Now who’s profiling,” he said, a teasing note in his voice.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Can’t. She said she thought you were a sweet girl but a drama queen.”
Andi snorted, nearly inhaling her beer. “A sweet girl? Like I’m a five-year-old with pigtails?” She shook her head. “I know who I won’t be calling to check on my case. She must think we’re hooking up or something.”
His forehead wrinkled. “What?”
“Just a vibe I got. She had no reason to dislike me that quickly. I barely talked to the woman. So it must be some residual territorial stuff.”
“Huh.” He looked pensive and then the corners of his mouth twitched up a little bit.
She shifted on the couch, the change in expression intriguing her. “What’s that look about?”
“I don’t know.” He met her gaze. “I’d like to say I’m sorry if I gave her the wrong impression, but I’m kind of not.”
A little tremor of pleasure went through her. “No?”
“Nope. I know it’s petty as hell, but on the breakup score sheet, she’s landed all the points so far. Having her think I’ve moved on with someone like you and her being annoyed about it? I’ll take the point.”
Andi narrowed her eyes. “Someone like me?”
His gaze skipped away and he cleared his throat. “Yeah. You know, someone smart and interesting. Obviously beautiful.”
Her stomach dipped. “Oh.”
Obviously beautiful? She’d never had anyone call her that. Like beautiful was a fact and not up for debate.
He cringed. “Sorry. I’m making it weird. I’m not hitting on you. All I’m saying is…you’re great fake-girlfriend material.”
The statement was so unexpected from someone like Hill that a laugh bubbled out of her. “Fake-girlfriend material? Someone’s been watching too many rom-coms.”
He smiled. “That’s probably true. When I was recovering from my injury, my friends forced all the happy-ending movies on me. I wasn’t allowed to watch anything dark, so there were a lot of rom-coms thrown at me. My friends were into the forced cheer.”
“Ugh, that sounds like a nightmare.” She took a slow sip of her beer, trying to settle herself after being called obviously beautiful by the werewolf. Be cool, Andi. “If I want comfort, I’m going straight to all the dark and scary stuff. That makes real life seem better because no matter what’s happening in my life, at least a psycho with razor fingers isn’t trying to kill me in my sleep and a demon’s not trying to steal my soul.”
“Is that why you’re into what you’re into?” he asked. “You find it comforting?”
She gave a little shrug. “It’s partly comfort. Partly entertainment. It also helps me feel prepared.”
“Prepared?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
She broke eye contact, focusing somewhere over his right shoulder. They’d had some honest conversation tonight, but she definitely didn’t want to open up that chapter in her past. He’d predicted she was the nice girl in high school. What was closer to the truth was that she’d been the girl desperate for everyone to like her. So desperate she’d ignored what had been right in front of her face. “Most people want to ignore the dark stuff. Pretend it’s not there. Imagine that human nature is inherently good. Close their eyes. If I don’t see it, then it can’t hurt me. But it is there—horror, crime, truly evil people—and once I realized that, I refused to ever look away again. If something bad is going to get me, I at least want to see it coming and have a chance—and a big-ass can of pepper spray.”
He frowned. “But what about the supernatural stuff? Do you think a vampire is going to get you?”
She laughed without humor. “The monsters are metaphors for real-life horrors.” She lifted a finger. “Though my jury is still out on ghosts. And it sounds weird, but horror is often about hope. We want to believe we can be the final girl. That the good guys or girls can still beat evil despite it all. I mean, Laurie Strode in Halloween is a badass. The kids in IT are terrified but determined to win. They never stop fighting.”
Hill set down his beer on the side table, a thoughtful look on his face. “I never thought about it that way.”
“Yeah, well, lots of people dismiss the horror genre as exploitative and cheap. But it’s been around so long for a reason. We get something out of being scared. It’s important.” She laid her head back against the couch. “And Andi will now step off her why-people-should-respect-the-horror-genre soapbox. Sorry.”