Page 52 of The Good Guy on My Porch

He didn’t smile, his grim expression didn’t crack. I hated it, hated myself. What was I doing?

“So,” I said. “What did you think? Going to be a whiskey drinker from now on?”

“Sure. Just as soon as you make drinking pink frou-frou drinks a habit.”

“Ugh. Never again.”

“Are his drink creations always that bad?”

I relaxed. We were talking, he was even smiling a little bit. Everything was going to be fine. It would go back to the way it was and everything would be just perfect. “Always. Someday, someone is going to have to tell him, but I do not want to be that person.”

We chatted about who should break the news to Damian, and had both agreed by the time we reached the porch that it should be Jenny. Not that we’d ever tell her that, but it was good to have made a decision.

“So,” I said. Oscar was standing next to me, but he wasn’t really looking at me, his eyes were on the door like he couldn’t wait to get inside. “You tried a new drink and got onto the dance floor. It’s your turn to drag me to something I’ve never had any desire to do.”

He climbed the steps and was almost all the way to his door before he spoke. “Sure. I’ll try to come up with something. Have a good night.” He went inside, closing the door behind him, and my heart sank. I’d lost him. I’d had the best kiss of my entire life, and I’d lost him.

***

My alarm would not stop ringing. I slapped at the clock next to my bed, but it just kept ringing, like it was trying to ring its way inside my skull.

I sat up and glared at the clock, but the noise wasn’t coming from there, it was coming from my cell phone next to it. My head was fuzzy and achy, as much from alcohol as from staying up most of the night trying to figure out how to fix things with Oscar. I grabbed my phone and just stared at Carrie’s name on the display for a long moment before I swiped to answer.

“Isn’t it your day off? Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?”

“You kissed Oscar?” she asked, her voice excited. “He’s such a good guy, Dilly. Aubrey is over the moon about the two of you getting together.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked the date. Yep, still Saturday. I hadn’t gotten caught in a weird wormhole time loop. “I am not going to confirm or deny—”

“Oh, stop,” she said. “Lance was there last night. He told me all about the kiss, said it was one of the hottest things he’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing. I think he might like you a little better after that kiss.”

I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. “I hate small towns.”

“Jenny saw the kiss, too. Did you know she’s Betty’s niece’s best friend? And Aubrey found out about the kiss from May, who was also at the club last night.”

“Doesn’t anyone stay in and play Monopoly on Friday nights anymore?”

“I did,” she said. “And I’m sorry I missed it. It sounds like the kiss of a century.”

She had no idea. “It was a kiss that never should have happened. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh.” She sounded thoroughly disappointed. “I figured you must have broken up with him.”

“I didn’t. Oscar is a good friend. He’s my neighbor. Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, it would be a terrible idea to date him.”

“Dating the neighbor worked out just fine for me. And Oscar is such a good guy, Dilly. I think you two could be really good together.”

“I have a boyfriend who’s a good guy, a great guy, Carrie. Why are you trying to push Oscar on me?”

“It’s just…” She sighed. “You know I love you, right?”

I groaned. “Just say the horrible thing you’re going to say and get it over with. I need to drink two gallons of water and drag my ass to work.”

“Your boyfriends suck, Dilly. I’m sorry, but they do. You always seem to choose guys who expect you to be available to them every hour of every day, who expect you to drop whatever you’re doing to be with them. Your last boyfriend was married. You deserve so much better than that, Dilly, and Oscar is so much better.”

I may have been using my boyfriends and fake boyfriends as a cover for my mother’s constant neediness for years, but Carrie wasn’t wrong. I’d dated a lot of douche bags. There’d been a few good guys, but none who could handle the fact that I couldn’t leave Catalpa Creek, none who’d understood my commitment to my mother. The idea that Carrie thought I deserved better was sweet, but it wasn’t reality. Reality was that my life was complicated and there weren’t any good guys who’d want to put up with that. Reality was I wasn’t a cruel enough person to subject any truly good guys to the demands and limitations of my reality. “Jerome is different. Trust me, Carrie. You don’t need to worry about me. Everything is great.”

“I just don’t think you’d be kissing Oscar if everything was so wonderful with Jerome.”

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