“What happened? Did he take you to seeOctaviusand you realized what a letdown the man next to you was in comparison?” If anybody else had said it, it would have sounded obnoxious. Somehow he was just adorable.
“This guy from work I was sort of crushing on asked me out to dinner. You were tweeting things. And I thought they were about me. So I kept checking my phone, which I think he didn’t like. He’s been avoiding me ever since.”
Chase didn’t say “Good,” but it looked like he was thinking it. “Do you mean the day after we talked aboutOctavius? Those tweets were definitely about you.”
If he kept making me feel this giddy, at some point my heart was going to give out.
We talked and talked. About everything and nothing. Like whether he preferred going out or staying home. “Socializing and networking is my job. When I’m at a party or a premiere, it’s because I have to be. And being surrounded by alcohol is not fun. I’ve always been a bit of a homebody. And I’ve been reminded lately just how much fun staying in can be.”
Was that another reference to me? Why did I feel like we were swinging back and forth like a pendulum? Even though earlier I’d decided to enjoy the here and now, I couldn’t stop obsessing. One second it was like of course he liked me, of course he was interested in me, and then it was back to him just wanting to be friends, and I was blowing everything way out of proportion.
He distracted me from my thoughts by asking me to tell him something he didn’t know.
“So, twelve plus one is the same as eleven plus two, right?”
“Right.”
“But did you know that when you take the letters in twelve plus one, you can rearrange them to be eleven plus two?”
He got out his phone and typed the words out. “That’s cool.”
When I answered his request, I knew that wasn’t what he’d meant. He wanted me to tell him something personal. But I didn’t really have anything like that left. I’d already told him all the important stuff. By our third (maybe fourth) date. I had never done that before with any guy.
Much later on I told him about our family trip to Yellowstone the previous summer and how Zelda had been obsessed with seeing buffalo. How we’d spotted one near a rest stop and Zelda had been thrilled. And the next time we saw a whole herd, we pointed it out to her, but she’d rolled her eyes and said, “I already seen a buffalo,” which made him chuckle. Then I looked at my watch.
I realized with a gasp that it was three o’clock in the morning. It was going to take at least forty-five minutes to get to my place. I’d never been so into a conversation with someone that I’d literally lost track of time. “It is so late. I should probably get home.”
He flicked on his phone, his eyes widening when he saw the time. “You probably should. But I kind of want you to stay.”
I kind of wanted to stay, but I didn’t know if that would mean something different to me than it would to him. Would he interpret me staying as some kind of invitation? Not to mention that I didn’t normally stay out this late. Lexi had probably called the police. “My roommate most likely has an APB out on me, so I should go.”
“You could text her. And stay.”
It didn’t help matters that he looked so inviting and tempting. I was starting to get that whole Eve–apple thing.
Mind made up, I went to the kitchen and got my purse. “I can call a cab.”
“I picked you up; I’m taking you home. Come on.”
He held my hand the whole way home. Like this was a thing we did now. We didn’t do anything else, but at least it was something.
Unless he held hands with all his female friends. Maybe he was just affectionate and liked the contact.
We chatted for the entire drive, but now there was this underlying current. Because he hadn’t wanted me to leave, and I hadn’t, either. Did that mean something more? If it did, then what?
When we got to my apartment complex, he insisted on walking me to the door. And my body said,We are at Defcon 1! This is finallyhappening!Because why else would a guy walk you to the door unless he planned to kiss you good night? I had mints in my purse but no easy way to get them or to take one without him noticing. And I knew he would tease me about it.
My heart pounded, my lips tingled, and it was practically impossible to convince oxygen to enter my lungs.
We walked up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. We stood in front of the door, and I fumbled around in my purse, felt the metal mint container, and briefly debated with myself whether I could sneak one out. I decided against it, as I was not known for my manual dexterity. I grabbed my keys instead. “So. Here we are. At my door. Made of wood. Maybe. It could be a wood veneer. Or metal.”
Chase leaned against the door frame, and his beauty hit me all over again. How could God have given so many good looks to just one person? “What your front door is made of is definitely important to know.”
Was he teasing me? Seriously? When my insides were about to explode?
He gave me a smile and said, “Good night, Zoe.”
And now he was leaving? Was he really not going to kiss me? Had he already forgotten our up-all-night conversation and how he wanted me to stay? I had my answer when he turned and walked down a few steps.