"Vic's not the dating type. So that means he's not the marrying type." Rene fit half the remainder of her toast into her mouth. Her words choked her more than her breakfast did.
She didn't date, either. Had anyone come to the same conclusion about her? What a depressing thought -- if it weren't so true and so... safe.
Sometimes, being safe wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Especially when careful control of her thoughts still didn't keep the occasional nightmare away.
"Uh huh. Maybe the right lady hasn't shown any interest," Bekka said. She squirmed around in the basket chair until she lay sideways and looked at her roommate from upside down, over her eyebrows. "Shane spends more time at the gym than I do, and after careful and extensive observations, he has a theory."
"Vic should start an order of Protestant monks?"
"Ewwww!" She giggled. "Shane thinks -- and I agree, after careful observation of my own, as an up-and-coming novelist -- that Vic already knows who the right lady is. He's just waiting for her to realize he's there."
"Any woman who can look at Vic Thomas and not know he's there... she's not good enough for him." Rene stuffed the last of her toast in her mouth and mumbled through it, "Most of the women after him aren't good enough for him anyway."
"What's his name?"
"Hmm?" She swallowed and looked around for her milk. Right -- she left it in the kitchen when she came out to see what Bekka was laughing about on the phone with Shane, and why it turned so quickly to a growl.
"His name. The guy who hurt you." Bekka twisted herself around so she righted herself and got out of the chair at the same time. "You were having those nightmares again last night. I could hear you crying, right through the wall. It's a good thing Kat was working over at her folks' and stayed the night, or she would be nagging you with me."