Page 20 of Back to You
Chapter 8
Iwas meeting Dane Fisher for coffee. Just coffee. Should be simple, right?
So why did it feel like the most complicated thing in the world?
The first thing I did was break the news to Abby, who knewallabout Dane. She was my closest friend, and the one person I told everything to. Grandma Gin knew a lot, sure, but Abby kneweverything.Well. Almost everything.
“See? And here you were, complaining about not getting laid.” She cackled and ran her hand down the arched back of Cappuccino. The long-haired orange tom was purring so loudly that I could hear him from across the room, while I dug through my chest of drawers in search of something decent to wear.
I shot her a look. “This isn’t a date, Abby.” After Dane’s less-than-warm reception, I was honestly kind of sick to my stomach at the thought of what might be said between us this afternoon.
Abby huffed dismissively. Cappuccino flopped down in her lap, his big paws kneading the air. She ran her fingers through his luxurious belly fur. “Don’t write it off so quickly, boy,” she said with a firm nod. “He kissed you, remember?”
Don’t remind me.“Five years ago.”
“So what? You think he forgot about it?Youhaven’t.”
“Yeah, but that’s different. I’ve been madly in love with him since we were thirteen. He didn’t have a clue how I felt till that night,” I told her.
What Ididn’ttell her was that he’d slapped me and then ran out of the store like I’d set his hair on fire. The way he’d looked at me…Thatwas what had my gut churning.
“We’ll just see about that,” she tittered.
Cappuccino’s nosy sister hopped up on the bed, looking for some love. He growled. With a flick of his fluffy tail, he landed on the floor with athudand sauntered off.
“What a brat.” Abby rolled onto her stomach and kicked her feet up in the air behind her. Her neon pink toe-socks were the brightest thing in my bedroom. She clicked her fingers at Latte, who mewled. “Never you mind that big, mean brother of yours. You get some lovin’ too, baby girl.”
I turned my attention back to my now-disheveled drawers. Ugh. I was like a teenager going on his first date. I didn’t know what to wear. Did I go casual? Semi-casual? Straight-up professional, work slacks and a nice polo shirt? Lame, compared to the distressed denim jeans and the fitted leather jacket Dane had been wearing the other day.
“Help?”
Abby scoffed at me. “Hollister. Seriously. Just be you. You said it yourself, you were best friends for years. You know him, right? He knows you, too, so chill out and be you.” She was right. I’d never hidden anything from him—except my sexuality—and out of all the people in this mad world, he knew me better than anyone.
I exhaled softly. Be myself. I could do that.
I went for casual, but not overly-casual, and let Abby play with my hair. I’d always kept it pretty short, since it was naturally wavy. She’d harassed me for two months straight about being a little more adventurous with my appearance, so I let it grow out enough to do this swoopy thing with hair gel.
It fit me.
I ran a lint-roller over my clothes real quick, to catch any stray cat hairs that might be clinging to me, and I was ready to go. Abby’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “You look very handsome, boy. If we were straight, I’d totally bone you.”
“Abby.”
“Just saying. I’ll see myself out. Good luck, and remember—relax.” She traipsed out of my bedroom with aswooshof her oversized pant legs. A minute later, I heard the front door clap shut.
I looked down at little striped Latte. She’d made my bed her throne. “Wish me luck, girl.” I took a breath to steady my nerves.You can do this, Hollister. You’ve only been dreaming of this day for five years.“Gran, I’m taking off,” I called through the house on my way out. My keys jangled when I snatched them off the kitchen counter.
“Have fun, child. Be back by curfew.” She cackled like a little old witch, then winked and stage-whispered, “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Hehehehe.”
By the time I reached the coffee shop, my hands were shaking. My heart was racing as if I’d just run two miles uphill in the dead of summer. I wiped my sweaty palms on the thighs of my jeans, then went inside.
Dane was already there. He sat at one of the tables in the back, anddamn.Why did he have to be so goddamn gorgeous? Without the leather jacket, I could see that he’d buffed out quite a bit. The muscles in his arms looked positively lickable, and we weren’t even talking about the ink.
Oh, theink.
I stood in the entrance, my feet rooted to the floor, until an older couple bustled past me with annoyed looks on their faces. “Sorry,” I uttered.Be yourself,I chanted as I made my way over to Dane. “Uh. Hey.”
To my relief, the frosty expression he’d worn the other day was gone, replaced by a hesitant smile. He rose to his feet and for a moment, I thought he might hug me. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hollister, hey. You wanna order?”
