Page 59 of What I'm Looking For

“Yeah, it does kind of suck that Roland can get me to call him whenever and wherever, but if you had one too, we could send each other coded messages.”

“Like, ‘I’m running late’?”

“Or just ‘I’m thinking about you.’”

“We might need that with how crazy my schedule’s going to get. The reason I was late was because of an emergency production meeting.” I hold the door for her, and we head outside. “Did you take the T over?”

“Yep. Did you ride your bike?” The hopeful smile on her face is adorable. She loves my bike more than I do.

“Would you like a ride?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“Your place?”

“Works for me. So, what was the emergency?”

“Oliver—the guy who was playing Romeo—got hit by a car.” I wince just thinking about it.

“Oh my gosh, is he okay?”

“Yeah, thankfully, but his leg’s broken so he won’t be able to do the show. The director’s bringing in some college friend of hers to replace him. Thing is, we’ve been working on the fights for weeks already. Now I have to scramble to teach this new guy everything—on top of ten out of twelve rehearsals coming up this weekend.” I squeeze her hand. “We may not see each other for a while.”

We’ve reached my bike, and I let go of her hand to unlock the helmets. When I give her one, she shrugs. “I’m traveling a lot over the next week, so I won’t be around much either.”

I trace a finger over her brow, trying to figure out if she’s angry. That mask has gone up. “Everything okay?”

She takes a breath, blows it out, fiddles with the helmet strap. “So, are we, like, dating?”

I don’t like the tension that just crept in between us, but I also don’t want to say something just because I think she’ll want to hear it. I’m also not sure where the question came from. “Well, I have no interest in seeing anybody else, so I guess you can say we’re exclusive. Is that what you mean?”

She meets my gaze. “Neither of us has time to date anyone else. But I guess I do want to know where this is going.”

There’s a buzz behind my solar plexus. Anxiety. Am I afraid to lose her? Or afraid what’ll happen if I say I want to be with her? Shifting my own helmet to my hip, I take her hand and rub a thumb over her knuckles, needing the connection. “What do you want?”

Her face clouds, but she clears her throat and it seems to clear her expression as well. “I really like you.” She gestures back down the street. “I like that you get me out in the world, off of my little hamster wheel of work.” Squeezing my hand, she says, “I guess I just want to know if you’re as into making this work as I am.”

I pull her hand to my chest and press it there. “If you’re willing to deal with my crazy schedule and my priorities, I want to be with you. And see where it goes.” I take a deep breath. “Career comes first for me right now. But you’re next in line. I hope that’s okay?”

She nods slowly and then goes on tiptoe for a kiss. “That is completely okay.”

I can’t read her subtext exactly. I hope she means what she said.

What I know for sure? When she climbs on my bike behind me, wraps her arms around my waist and snuggles in close, we’re two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.

* * *

The next day,I stop by the house to change between rehearsal and my shift at the bar. When I shut the back door, Deb’s voice carries clearly from the kitchen.

“Will?”

“No, axe murderer.”

“Ha ha. Listen, does Kate know we hear these messages she leaves for you? I mean, they’re getting more… specific.”

“Why are you listening to them?” I yell from the mudroom.

“Since we share a phone, we can’t really avoid it,” Pam calls back.

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