by Kylie Keene
“Because I can tell you’re not enjoying this. We’ll just go somewhere else.” He lets the hostess know and then we leave and go back to his car.
“Grant, we should’ve just stayed. I know you really wanted to eat there.”
We’re sitting in the car now but he hasn’t started the engine because we haven’t figured out where to go. Grant doesn’t say anything so I don’t either.
After a period of awkward silence, he finally speaks. “Sometimes I really struggle trying to find places to take you, Morgan. You don’t seem to want to do anything.”
“It’s not that. I just think we need to find something we both like. Do you like Mexican food? I know a place not far from here that—”
“I got really sick from Mexican food a year ago and haven’t been able to eat it since.” He starts the car. “I’ll just make something. We’ll go back to my place.”
On the drive back, we’re both quiet. I know he’s mad at me and I’m kind of mad at him, too. I never said we had to leave the restaurant. He just assumed we did and now he’s blaming me for us having to leave and giving me the silent treatment. I think this is our first official fight.
We get to his building and as we’re walking to his apartment, I say, “I think I should just go.”
He doesn’t disagree. We get back in his car and he drives me home.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Morgan. Or you call me. We’ll figure out if we want to do something tomorrow night.”
His comment makes it sound like going out tomorrow is optional. Before it was assumed.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
He doesn’t walk me to the door, but instead just drives away.
***
Saturday I wake up depressed about how badly things went with Grant. I should’ve acted more positive about his restaurant choice or talked him into staying there. But even if we’d eaten there, I have a feeling the night still wouldn’t have gone well.
The more I think about it, the more I realize this relationship doesn’t seem to be working for either of us. Grant would be happier with someone who shares his interests and I’d be happier going out with Brad.
I think I need to end things with Grant. I hate breaking up with people but it’s better to do it now than later. And honestly, I don’t think he’ll be all that upset about it.
My mood brightens when Brad appears at my door right at 9. “Ready to tour some parks?”
“Let me grab my coat.” I take it from the closet and follow him out the door.
When we get in his car, he hands me a map. “You’re the navigator. I circled all the ones I thought we should check out. Did you have any on your list?”
“Sorry. I didn’t work on it. But this is great. Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem. It didn’t take long.”
We spend the entire morning driving around. None of the park ranger stations are open but we can at least check out the facilities.
I like driving through the parks in the winter when nobody’s around. There’s nothing but snowy fields and giant fir trees. It’s quiet and peaceful and it takes my mind off my problems with Grant.
“Should we stop for lunch or keep going?” Brad asks around noon.
“Let’s stop for lunch. I’m starving.”
“How about Mexican? There’s a great place just down the street.”
Mexican. Of course. Brad just happens to suggest Mexican food reminding me of my fight with Grant.
“Sure. Mexican sounds good.”
Brad takes me to the exact same place I wanted to take Grant last night. It’s one of my favorite places. There are probably hundreds of Mexican restaurants in the metro area and Brad takes me to this one. It’s one of his favorites, too.
I feel like fate is intervening again, flashing a giant neon sign in front of my face confirming my decision to break up with Grant and telling me to start dating Brad.
As we’re eating lunch, I feel depressed again knowing I have to end things with Grant. I know it’s the right thing to do but it still makes me sad.
Brad, on the other hand, seems even happier than normal.
“What did you do last night?” I ask him.
“Went out for dinner and a movie.”
“By yourself?”
He laughs. “No, not by myself. It was Friday night. I had a date.”
My shoulders slump like they’re sighing in disappointment. Brad’s dating? I’m finally ready to break up with Grant and tell Brad how I feel about him, and now he’s dating someone else?
“Was it a first date?” I try to force out a smile and pretend to be happy for him.
“Actually, we’ve been out a couple times. We met Thursday for lunch and then went out last night. And we’re going out tonight, too.”
Three days in a row? He must really like this girl.
“Where did you meet her?”
“It’s the girl Paige set me up with.”
Damn Paige and her stupid matchmaking. Why can’t she leave Brad alone and find some other guy to match up with whoever this girl is?
“I’m glad you found someone.” My voice lacks enthusiasm and I’m sure my fake smile isn’t very convincing.
“Is something wrong?”
“It’s just that I’m—” I stop before I tell him. He doesn’t need to know I’m breaking up with Grant. It wouldn’t matter now. Brad obviously likes this girl a lot if he’s already been out with her twice and asked her out again for tonight.
“Morgan.” He puts his hand on my arm. “What were you going to say?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” I force out another smile.
“You have a boyfriend, Morgan.” His face is serious, his eyes on mine. “What did you want me to do? Keep waiting?”
“No. Of course not.” I swirl my straw around my glass of soda, keeping my eyes on it instead of Brad.
He’s right. He had every right to find someone else. And technically, I’m still dating Grant.
Our food arrives but I lost my appetite when I lost any future I could’ve had with Brad. Why the hell did I wait so long to do something? I knew it wasn’t working with Grant. And I knew I liked Brad. I knew there was something special between us back in Boston and I knew it was still there when I saw him again here in town. So why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I break up with Grant as soon as I knew Brad had moved back here?
We finish lunch and look at some more parks, then he takes me home. He has to get ready for his date tonight.
Grant hasn’t called or texted me all day, so I call him. We both act normal, like our fight never happened. We tell each other what we did all day, and as we’re talking, I realize how much I like having Grant as a friend. He’s easy to talk to and a really nice guy, which makes breaking up with him even harder.
“Do you want to come over tonight?” I ask him. It’s already 6 and usually we’d be together by now.
“You want me to come over to your place?” He sounds surprised. I know he’s not comfortable at my place, which is why I never invite him over.
“I wanted to talk to you about something. If you’d rather have me go to your apartment, that’s fine.”
“Actually, I was thinking of catching up on some work tonight.”
“On Saturday night? Can’t you work tomorrow?”
He pauses, then says, “I guess. Come on over. I’ll make us something.”
“Don’t worry about dinner. You don’t need to make anything. I’ll be there soon.”
When I get to his apartment I knock on the door and hear him tell me to come in. I find him in the kitchen making dinner, even though I told him not to. I notice that he’s making chicken tacos. A bowl of homemade salsa is sitting next to some tortilla chips.
“You made Mexican?” I take a chip.
He smiles. “I felt bad about how I acted last night and just now on the phone. I wanted to make it up to you. Here.” He hands me a plate with two chicken tacos on it.
“You
did all this for me? But you said Mexican makes you sick.”
“It wasn’t the most pleasant experience making this, but I got over it.”
“So you can’t eat any of it?”
“I can eat the chips.”
“You didn’t have to do all this work, Grant.”
“It wasn’t much work. I whipped it up really quick. Go ahead and eat.”
The food is delicious, as always. And his gesture was so sweet that I can’t possibly break up with him. At least not tonight.
After dinner, we go to the couch and watch one of his movies. I fall asleep and wake up in his bed still wearing my jeans and sweater. He must’ve carried me in here, another sweet gesture. I check the clock and see that it’s 2:30. Grant’s sound asleep next to me so I decide to go back to sleep instead of waking him up.
In the morning, Grant’s in a better mood than he’s been in all week. I think he likes that I stayed overnight. Like it means we’ve gone to a new level in our relationship. Unfortunately, I’m seeing clearly again and realizing that last night was a mistake. But I can’t seem to bring myself to tell him that.
While we’re eating breakfast, Grant says, “We’re probably the only twenty-something couple in the history of time who spent the night together and didn’t have sex.”
“I think you’re right.” I sip my coffee. He makes excellent coffee, too. “I didn’t mean to spend the night, you know. You could’ve woke me up.”
He kisses me. “I didn’t want you to leave. I like having you here. You should sleep over more often.”
I’m so confused. Where is this coming from? Now he wants me staying over? How did this happen? Friday we’re fighting. Saturday he gives me the silent treatment. And now he’s practically asking me to move in?
I don’t understand men. Or dating. Or relationships. All reasons why I’m still a virgin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
22
Grant gets up to pour us more coffee. “I hear Brad’s moving in your building today.”
“Yeah, he’s probably over there right now.”
“So you and Brad weren’t friends in high school?”
“No, not at all. He was the school’s big football star, so I knew who he was, but we weren’t friends.”
“You probably thought you’d never see the guy again and then you end up working at the same place. Living in the same building. And now you have to plan that picnic together.”
“I know. I can’t believe they’re making us do that. Planning that picnic is going to take up all my free time.” That used to be a good thing, but now that Brad is dating someone, it’s going to be harder to be around him. But I guess that’s how he felt watching me date Grant.
“I have to put in a ton of overtime the next few months so I guess we’ll both be busy. Oh, and I have to go to a four-day client retreat the second week in March. It’s Thursday through Sunday, so I don’t even get the weekend off.”
“That’s the weekend of my Dad’s wedding. So you can’t come with me?”
“Shit, I totally forgot about that. I’m sorry, Morgan, but I can’t get out of this. I have to go.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just have to go alone.”
“Take Brad. He seems nice. I’m sure he would do it. Do you want me to ask him?”
Once again, my clueless, born-again virgin boyfriend is unknowingly pushing me into the arms of the man I can’t get out of my head.
“I can ask him. He might do it, although he’s seeing someone so she may not approve of it.”
“I’m really sorry about this, Morgan.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”
I leave Grant’s place, still as his girlfriend. I couldn’t break up with him. Not after I spent the night there and he made me breakfast. I’ll do it later.
When I get back to my apartment, I stop by the second floor and see the door to Brad’s new apartment propped open with a box. I pop my head in and see him in the kitchen. His furniture is moved in and there are stacks of boxes everywhere.
“Hi, neighbor,” he says when I walk in. “Want to unpack boxes?”
“Sure. I can help.” I set my purse down and take off my coat.
“Morgan, I was kidding. I wouldn’t make you do that. Go relax. It’s Sunday.”
“No, really. I don’t mind. And technically, if I help you with this you’d owe me and I do have a favor to ask you.”
He leans against the kitchen island, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m curious about what this favor is. Go on.”
“As you know, my dad is getting married in a few weeks and my date just bailed on me.”
He raises his brows. “You guys broke up?”
“No, he just has to go out of town for work. He suggested I ask you to go in his place.”
Brad cocks his head. “Really? He wants me to be your date for a wedding? Man, this guy really trusts me.”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “Apparently you’re not much of a threat, Brad.”
“I must be losing my touch. Guys used to keep their girls away from me. Now they’re throwing them at me.”
“So can you go or not? It’s the second Saturday in March. The wedding’s at 7 and the reception’s after that.”
“Sure. I can go.”
“What about your girlfriend? Do you need to talk to her first? She might be mad.”
He smiles. “I’ve been out with her three times. I think it’s too soon to call her my girlfriend. So count me in.”
I hug him, not really meaning to. I was just so happy he agreed to go with me. He hugs me back and we linger a little too long.
I pull away. “I guess we should get to work. I’ll run upstairs quick and change into something else and be right back.”
“Morgan, you don’t have to help me. You don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to go to the wedding with you.”
“Moving is a ton of work. Believe me, I just finished helping my dad. You’re going to need some help or it’ll take you days to get this done.”
He shrugs. “Okay. I won’t argue. But I’m buying you dinner tonight.”
The two of us spend the rest of the day unpacking boxes and putting stuff away. Like me, Brad has a mix of furniture that doesn’t really go together, but the apartment looks pretty good when we’re done.
It’s 6:30 and we both collapse on his couch. “Thanks for all your help, Morgan. I’d be buried in boxes right now if it weren’t for you. Tell me what you want to eat. After all that work, I’ll get you whatever you want.”
“Pizza. Delivered. I think we’re both too tired to go anywhere.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” He gets up to call in the order.
After dinner, Brad’s phone rings next to me while he’s cleaning the dishes in the sink.
“Go ahead and answer it,” he says.
It’s Paige calling.
“Hi, Paige. It’s Morgan.” I wait, knowing the questions are coming.
“Morgan? What are you doing answering Brad’s phone? Are you at his place? Why aren’t you with Grant?”
“I was helping Brad unpack boxes. He moved into my building today.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Is he there? I need to talk to him quick. I forgot to have him fill out one of the forms for the mentor program and it’s due in the morning.”
I give Brad the phone and he talks to Paige just long enough for her to tell him about the form. When he hangs up, his phone rings again.
He answers, lowering his voice and turning away from me. “I’m glad you had a good time. I don’t know about Wednesday. I’m swamped at work. The weekend is better for me.” He listens. “Let me see how the week goes and I’ll call you later.” He listens again. “Okay. Bye.”
I’m sure it was his new love interest calling. I’m dying to know.
“Was that Paige again?” I ask.
“It was Cassie, the woman I’ve been seeing.” He sighs. “She likes to go out all the time. And I mean ALL the time. Like every nig
ht of the week. First of all, I don’t have the money for that. And second, it’s too much. I don’t like going out every night.”
“But you like her, right?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, she’s nice. She’s similar to Paige. I can see why they’re friends.”
“Do you have a picture of her?”
He holds up his phone and shows me a photo of a girl about my age with straight blond hair and abnormally white teeth.
“She’s pretty,” I say, hoping I don’t sound jealous. “Well, I should go.” I head to the door and he follows me out.
“Thanks again for all your help.” He leans against the door frame. “Do you want to have dinner this week?”
Is he asking me out? What about Cassie? I’m so confused I don’t answer.
“To talk about the employee picnic,” he says. “We have a lot more planning to do. In fact, we should probably have dinner a couple times this week.”
So it’s just about the picnic. He’s not asking me out. “But you just said you don’t like going out during the week.”
“We don’t have to go out. You can come down here or I’ll go upstairs. I’m not a good cook like Grant, but I know my way around the kitchen. I can fix us something.” He playfully jabs my shoulder and smiles. “Or you could. You’re the food expert.”
“Sorry, but I don’t cook. Unless you want a frozen meal. I do know how to use the microwave.”
“I was kidding. We’ll just get take-out.”
“Okay. Maybe Tuesday night. We’ll figure it out later.”
***
Monday at work, I go straight to the lab, not stopping at my desk. Paige and Kayla are standing there looking like they’re ready to attack me with questions.
Paige starts. “Is he the one?”
“What one? What are you talking about?”
“Is Brad the guy you almost slept with in Boston?”
I feel my cheeks turning red. I walk away so they can’t see my face. “No. Why would you say that?”
“He has an MBA. He used to work in Chicago. He went to your high school. He sounds just like Boston Guy.”
“It’s not him.” I go to the closet and pull out my lab coat. “I went to a huge high school and yes, Brad sounds similar to Boston Guy, but it’s not him.”