by S. E. Rose
“Defensive much?”
I sigh. “No, I just…it’s fine.”
“What?”
“He’s getting coffee with Kylie.”
“Kylie, as in Kyles, as in your sister?”
“That would be the one,” I state dryly.
“And, are you OK with that?” she asks.
I sigh. “I don’t know, Bai. I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t know what I like or don’t like. I don’t know who I like. I don’t even know if I want to like anyone.”
“Jesus, you’re like in full midlife-crisis mode.”
I huff. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Maybe, spend some time away from Garrett. Clear your head and figure out what you want.”
“It’s too late. He’s going out with Kylie. My chances there are over. But I do need to figure out what I want,” I admit.
She pats my leg. “Well, if you need help, you know who you can ask.”
“Thanks,” I say with a smile as I turn onto Main Street and drop her off at her apartment.
“See you tomorrow,” I call out as she gets out of the car.
Leaning back in, she looks at me. “Don’t wait too long to figure things out, OK?”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the advice.”
She shuts the door. “I mean it,” she yells as I pull away.
I park my car two minutes later and head up to my apartment, feeding the cats first, and then showering.
When I get back to my phone, I see the group text has blown up.
Lanie: 999
Kent: It’s 911, jackass
Lanie: Not in England it isn’t
Kent: What?!
Lanie: I need a babysitter for Ash tomorrow.
Kent: Not it.
Me: Sorry, I have a parent-teacher thing tomorrow.
Clark: Intro to Aeronautical Engineering.
Tabby: Damn – I have a client tomorrow or I would
Lanie: Kylie?
Kylie: I sort of…fine, I’ll cancel my plans.
Lanie: I owe you big-time, Kyles!!
Kylie: I take nothing less than Benjamins in payment.
Lanie: How about sister hugs?
Kylie: (middle-finger emoji)
I put my phone down as I try to remember what day Kylie and Garrett were getting coffee. Was it tomorrow? Is that what she canceled? Why am I secretly excited about that? I groan at myself and fall onto my mattress. A cat jumps on my back and I turn to see Moe curling up into a ball. Fantastic. Now, I’m just a cat bed.
Chapter Twelve
Garrett
Kylie: I’m so sorry, but can we reschedule coffee?
Me: Sure. Everything OK?
Kylie: Oh, yeah. It’s fine. Lanie just had an emergency lawyer thing and needed someone to watch Ash.
Me: No worries. Maybe next week?
Kylie: For sure.
I toss my phone on my desk and look around my classroom. I hadn’t planned on staying late but might as well get some work done. I settle myself back at my desk and start organizing handouts and changing things in my planner and updating our online class webpage.
I’m deep in thought when a knock at my door startles me.
I look up and find Di standing there.
“Hey,” I say.
“You’re here late,” she says.
“I could say the same for you.”
She shrugs. “A parent wanted to have a meeting and couldn’t get off work earlier, so I stayed late to meet with them.”
“You want to grab some food?” I ask, glancing at the time on my computer screen.
She looks down at her watch. “Sure. I’m sort of starving.”
“Great, it’s half-price-beer night at the pub,” I say as I collect my things.
“Well, beer and burgers it is,” she says with a grin. We walk out and I head to my house as she goes to hers. “I’ll meet you there in ten minutes,” I call out.
“Yep, see you in ten,” she says as she turns onto her street.
I have no idea why I’m having dinner with her when I was supposed to be having coffee with her sister. I keep contemplating this the entire time I’m walking to my house and then again as I head toward Main Street after I toss my things inside my foyer.
I see her walking toward me as I reach the door.
“Fancy meeting you here?” she says with a laugh.
I open the door for her, and we head inside. It’s not overly crowded, but it’s also a weeknight, and the high school JV football team is playing, which means most people are still at the game for another thirty minutes.
“Sit wherever you like,” a waitress named Kathy calls out from the bar.
“Thanks, Kathy,” Di says as she leads me to a booth in the corner by the front window.
“What’ll it be?”
“Two burger specials and two amber ales,” I say, looking toward Di.
Kathy looks at her and Di grins. “You heard the man,” she says with a laugh.
“Sorry, that was probably a little presumptuous of me,” I say to her as Kathy leaves to put our order in.
She shrugs. “I mean, we have spent how many years at happy hours here? If you didn’t know what I liked by now, I’d say you were a pretty shitty friend.”
I chuckle. “I suppose that is true.”
Kathy sets our beers down and we thank her. Di runs a finger around the rim of the glass.
“So, any plans for the weekend?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Nope.”
“Really?” I say, somewhat surprised.
“I was going to go to a book signing, but…” She trails off as she looks up at me.
“But?”
“I mean, it’s romance books.”
“Point being?”
She sighs. “I gave up romance stuff, remember?”
I lean in and look at her. “Can I be totally honest with you?”
She rolls her eyes. “No, please lie to me. I really like that.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “First, you don’t have to give up everything you love. So what? You like romance books. Big deal. There’s nothing wrong with books. It’s not like they are the reason for…any relationship issues you might have had.”
She giggles. “I mean…well…”
“Are they?” I ask, raising my eyebrows in surprise.
“The books always have these perfect guys. And before you say something, I know that no one is actually perfect. But, sometimes, it can be frustrating when you read book after book of these amazing heroes and then you roll over to your less than perfect boyfriend.”
“So, you want a perfect boyfriend?”
She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t say that.”
“Well, then you know it’s fiction. I mean, I love spy novels and I don’t think that the main characters are anything like what real spies are like.”
“Yeah. I don’t know.”
I reach over and grab her hand. “Let’s go to this signing.”
Her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “As in, us?” She motions between us.
“Yeah, what the hell. I mean, you’re trying new things. Why can’t I?”
Kathy sets down our burgers. “Enjoy!” she says cheerfully as she walks over to another table.
Di takes a small bite of a French fry. “You loathe anything romance related. The first time we met, you said, and I quote, ‘Romance is for suckers. True love doesn’t exist. And I feel sorry for anyone who buys into that bullshit.’”
I grimace. “Yeah, I might have said something like that.”
She gives me a pointed look.
“OK, I probably did. But, hell, Di, if you can change, maybe I can too.”
“Why do you want to change?”
I shrug. “Never bad to focus on personal growth.”
She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Personal growth? You expect me to believe that this is about personal growth?”
“Yep.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m serious. Let’s go tomorrow.”
“Don’t you have something better to do?” she inquires as she takes a big bite of her burger.
I finish chewing and look back up at her. “I thought you said you go to them all the time.”
“Not ‘all’ the time.”
“So, they aren’t fun?”
“They are fun if you read romance books.”
“OK, give me one to read, then.”
“Are you serious?” She looks around. “Am I on candid camera or something?”
“No. I’m serious.”
“You literally were mock reading one the other day.”
“So?”
“So? I don’t get the one-eighty,” she says.
“Me either,” I admit.
“Garrett, I’m about ten seconds away from calling a mental health hotline for you. Seriously, what gives?”
“I’m fine. I just had fun with you this past week. Plus, it’ll give us more time to work on details for the race.”
She looks at me for a long moment and shakes her head. “OK, fuck it. I’ll pick your ass up at nine on Saturday.”
“OK. Uh, what do people wear to these things?” I ask.
She smirks. “Clothes.”
“Very fucking helpful.”
“I know, right?” she says with another smirk. “This is going to be fun.”
“What is? Torturing me?”
She nods and winks at me as she takes another bite of her burger. I have no idea what I’ve just agreed to, but I do know that I have an irrational, overwhelming need to spend more time with Diana Carol Moore and if that means I spend the day looking at romance novels, so be it.
Chapter Thirteen
Di
I grin when I pull up to Garrett’s house on Saturday morning. He’s sitting on his front porch, and he is way overdressed. He has on a button-down shirt and dress pants.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling as he walks to the car. I want to tell him to go change, but I also like how he looks all dressed up.
He opens the car door and looks at me. “I’m overdressed, aren’t I?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Fuck. Just a minute,” he says as he sprints back up to the house. He emerges two minutes later wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
“Wow, we haven’t left yet, and you’ve already had a wardrobe change. Impressive,” I say as I pull out onto his street and head toward Baltimore.
“Where is this book signing, anyhow?” he asks.
“At a hotel by the airport.”
He nods and launches into some ideas he has for the race. We chat about all kinds of aspects of the event during the forty-minute drive. By the time I park, I feel like we have a great plan. We are going to have the event in early November. We split up the tasks, and as we walk up to the ballroom, I declare that we are the best event planners ever.
He laughs as I buy him a ticket to the event.
I hand it to him, and he looks from it to me. “It doesn’t start for two hours.”
I nod. “I know.”
“Uh, why’d we get here so early?” he asks.
I point to the line of women sitting along a wall.
His eyes widen. “Wait, is that a line?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“That’s insane?”
“That’s romance.”
“Which is insane.”
I laugh and grab his hand. We sit down next to a group of women gushing over the authors that they want to meet.
“I don’t get it,” he says. He opens his mouth to say something else when a few women shriek. I look up to see that one of the cover models has arrived early and is taking some pics with a few ladies.
Garrett frowns in confusion, so I lean into him to explain. “That’s Cal Worthington. He’s a cover model.”
“Oh, is he like a famous model?” I can see Garrett trying to place him, so I pull up my phone and open my Kindle app, scrolling until I reach a cover with Cal on it. I hold it up for Garrett to see.
“Jesus, that guy is ripped,” he says.
I shrug. “It’s his job.”
“If that’s the standard, then no wonder why there are so many failed relationships. What normal guy can live up to that standard?”
I groan. “Seriously? Guys look at hot supermodels and actresses all day and guys still marry normal-looking women, every day.”
“’Cause at the end of the day”—he looks around and lowers his voice—“at the end of the day, guys don’t care about looks as long as…you know?”
Oh, I know, but I want to make him squirm. “Know what?”
“As long as…you know?”
“No, what?”
He gives me a “seriously” look and I grin. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Please, enlighten me.”
“Fine. Whatever. As long as a woman has boobs and an ass, guys are happy. I mean, really, we just want a place to stick our—”
I put a hand over Garrett’s mouth to stop him. “OK, that’s enough sharing.”
He grins and I release my hand. “What? It’s true.”
I roll my eyes. “No wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re so…”
He raises his eyebrow.
“So…crass.”
“Crass? That’s the best you got? Come on, you have two brothers. This can’t be a foreign concept to you.”
I sigh. “I suppose it’s not, but hey, a girl can dream. And that’s why we are all here.”
“To dream?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“OK, fine. I’ll play along in your fantasy world for the day.”
“Cool. Then, you can carry my books.”
“OK.”
I grin because he has no idea how many books I have pre-ordered for today’s event. I was going to get the authors to ship them, but here we are.
I rub my hands together. “Popping your romance book cherry is going to be so much fun!” I say as I waggle my eyebrows.
He laughs nervously as he looks at the women surrounding Cal. “Be gentle.”
I lean in toward him and wink. “Never.”
Garrett
Nothing, and I mean nothing, has prepared me for what I’ve seen today. Women, grown-ass women, crying as they meet authors, shrieking at male models, and all together swooning over books. It’s…I have no words.
Turns out, that a fair amount of women brought their husbands and boyfriends and it appears that all of us are the official book carriers. We’ve run into at least two other women that Diana knows. And at least four women have asked me if I’m a cover model. Di has enjoyed each encounter as I blush and explain that I am, in fact, not a model. And now, I am carrying a bag filled with at least fifteen books.
I am also the official picture taker every time Di meets an author. After two hours, we’ve gone to nearly every table.
“How do you not have more books at your apartment?” I ask her.
“Oh, that’s not all of them,” she says as we walk back to the car.
“Where’s the rest?”
“Some are at my parents’ house. Some are on the shelf in my room. And some I’ve given out to friends to read.”
“Well, it’s a crazy expensive obsession you have.”
She laughs. “I suppose it is. But I’m not married. I don’t have kids. I don’t own a house. I don’t travel a ton. So, I have money to spend.”
“Whatever floats your boat.”
“So, not a fan, huh? I didn’t turn you into one today?” she asks.
I shrug. “I did read a little of the book you shared with me, but I just don’t think it’s my thing.” She had shared one of her books with me after dinner earlier this week. I have to admit, it wasn’t bad, but I’m still gonna stick to my spy novels.
“Thanks for talking me into coming and tagging along with me,” she says.
�
�Sure. I’ll be your book Sherpa any time.”
She giggles and something about her being happy, makes me want to do anything I can to keep her happy. What the hell is coming over me lately? I frown as I remember that I promised her sister that we’d get coffee this week.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “Just wondering what I’m having for dinner,” I add, trying to cover up my thoughts.
“You can come with me to my parents’ house again. They’d love to have you.”
I should say no. I should not go spend time at a place with one woman that I like and shouldn’t, and another who likes me, but I don’t feel anything for her. Yet, I’m going to go anyhow because I can’t say no to the beauty sitting beside me in the car.
“OK,” I answer.
“Good, it’s settled. I’m actually thinking of baking a cake for tonight. I haven’t done that in a long time,” she says.
“You like to bake?” I ask, turning to her.
“I do. I don’t know why I don’t do it more often,” she ponders while turning off toward Banneker.
“You should come use my kitchen sometime. It hasn’t gotten much use,” I admit.
“You don’t cook?” she inquires as she pulls onto my street.
“No. I grill on occasion, but I can only really cook two things.”
“And those are…” She looks over at me.
I smile. “Chili and tacos.”
She laughs. “OK, well, at least we know you won’t be starving.”
I shrug. “I’m also really good at ordering takeout and microwaving food.”
“Oh, a man who can microwave! Nothing screams eligible bachelor like a microwaving man,” she says on a light-hearted laugh.
“Good to know. I should add it to my dating app profiles.”
“Profiles?” she asks as she parks in my driveway.
“I have a few dating app accounts, different apps.”
“How’s that working out for you?” she asks as she puts her car in park and turns to me.
I shrug again. “I mean, I don’t really use them that often. Why? You gonna get on a dating app?”
She shakes her head, laughing. “No. Hell no. My siblings tried to talk me into that a few weeks ago. I just…I don’t know. Maybe I’m old fashioned or something. I just want to meet a guy, in real life, no app, no weird swipe left or swipe right based on a photo and a few facts. I want to have a real conversation and see him in person and then decide…I mean, that’s how I felt about it before…you know, I decided to not date.”