Page 30 of Love Me Boldly

Graham chuckled and stepped back, taking the door with him and swinging it wide open for me. “What are you waiting for?”

Nothing. If his being a hockey player bothered me, I wouldn’t have come. I hadn’t debated if I would or not. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d beaten him to the apartment building because I stayed in my car for twenty minutes waiting for the hour he requested to be up. And then I waited ten more minutes so I didn’t come across as too eager.

I crossed the threshold, and a look of satisfaction flashed on Graham’s face. I had the sudden rush that I’d pleased him, and that only increased when I removed my coat and hung it up on a set of empty hooks he had by his door.

“It certainly does explain a lot.”

His “early” nights. The weekends. I was so used to people letting me down or flat-out lying to me that I’d built too many walls. It was too far ingrained in my nature to suspect wrongdoing everywhere I turned. Looking back, Graham had been honest with me. Sure, he’d kept things to himself, but I bet if I had tried to get to know him more, really dive in, he would have told me.

“If it helps, I didn’t like not being fully honest with you.”

“Like you said, we all have closets full of secrets. Was that yours?”

He rocked back on his heels, and for the first time since we’d met, he seemed uncomfortable. Like the question was diving in too deep. “One of them?”

He chewed his bottom lip. Did he want me to ask? Avoid it?

My curiosity was rising, but there were things I’d have to tell him if I wanted to keep seeing him, and I wasn’t ready for all of that. So avoidance it was.

Maybe I’d wait and see how the night went. I could always block him tomorrow.

“You mentioned dinner,” I said, and relief washed through him, loosening the muscles around his eyes I hadn’t realized had tightened and fell from his shoulders. “Are you going to feed me, or are we going to keep standing here?”

He chuckled and grabbed his phone. “Chinese? Pizza? Something else?” He waved his phone. “The world is our oyster…or whatever restaurants are available for delivery.”

“Chipotle.” As soon as I said it, my stomach rumbled.

“Guess I don’t have to ask if you’re sure,” Graham said, laughing at me as I covered my stomach.

“Sorry. But chips and salsa and a massive burrito sound incredible right now.”

He tapped on his screen, opened the app, and then handed me his phone. “Here. You order first.”

“You’re just handing me your phone?” I had my palm up, waiting for it, but…really?

Graham shook his head, and his dark hair swayed and swooshed with the movement. His eyes glimmered with amusement. “I don’t have secrets, Holly. I have things I haven’t told you yet, but the main word is yet.”

“You’re not asking about mine.”

“Just because you have things you haven’t told meyet, doesn’t mean you won’t. I figure I have to earn the honor of your trust first, so yeah…maybe that starts with you having access to my phone. But don’t snoop for too long. I’m starving.”

“Right.” Of course. Because this was a Chipotle order, not unfettered access. Still, the urge to snoop slithered to my fingertips. Who did he Snap the most? How often did he and his mom talk? Or his dad? Did he have siblings?

They were probably all off doing equally amazing things like playing college or professional sports and being doctors or something. Maybe lawyers or engineers.

Was Piper at the top of any of those lists?

All the questions chased each other, giving me no break from my insanity and paranoia—at least I realized it—while I put in my order. I forewent a soda, figuring he had water and that was good enough for me, but threw in a large order of both queso cheese and guac.

I let him know as I handed the phone back to him.

“Extra food but no snooping?”

“You’re right here,” I drawled. “If I’m going to snoop, I’m not going to do it while you can watch.”

“Shame…I’d like to see your reaction to my internet history.”

A blush hit at the insinuation, and Graham’s face went serious for a moment. Then two before he wiggled his brows.

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