Page 30 of Not Your Valentine
Thanks for the flowers!! he says.
No problem.
Do you want me to take a picture and post it on Instagram?
I cringe. Does he think that I got him flowers just for photographic proof of our relationship? I mean, I can’t blame him for thinking that, but it doesn’t sit right with me. I also wonder if he read anything into the color of the roses.
I type a message, delete it…and repeat this five times.
No need. I got them just for you to enjoy.
I cringe yet again as I read the words that I sent him. It sounds a little sappy, and I’m not a sappy person. But I need Taylor to understand that it’s for him, not for our act. That seems important, somehow, even if it pains me a little.
Are you free tomorrow after work? he asks. I’m having dinner with my dad, since he’s back from his trip, and I thought I could stop by to have bubble tea with you.
My head is spinning. Is this a “date”? Or is he asking as a friend because he likes spending time with me and going out for bubble tea is something we’ve done in the past?
Except we’ve spent a lot of time together lately. We don’t usually see each other multiple times in a month.
After puzzling over this for a minute, I decide he’s just really committed to our fake relationship.
Sure, I say. See you tomorrow.
I finish cooking dinner, and I’m about to park myself in front of the TV when the group chat becomes active.
JASMEET: I’m strangely NOT busy this weekend.
WHITNEY: You guys should come over.
WHITNEY: Ooh, and Helen should invite her new boyfriend.
ME: That’s really not necessary.
After I send that message, I debate whether it’s contrary to our “act,” but even if Taylor and I were actually dating, I might say that.
The conversation continues. My friends are really insistent on meeting Taylor, and eventually I decide, why the hell not? It will get them to shut up right now, and Jasmeet’s fiancé, Liam, will be there, though Whitney’s boyfriend is out of town.
Well, I’ll ask Taylor tomorrow when I see him for bubble tea.
Taylor meets me outside my building the next day. He’s wearing a blue toque and a big winter jacket, as is appropriate for the weather, and my heart rate kicks up a notch.
Especially when we start walking toward the bubble tea shop and he grabs my hand.
“You know, as part of our act,” he says breezily.
“Of course.” I’m definitely not disappointed at his words.
When we arrive, Vin is there. (See, Vin? I have a boyfriend! I’m not a liar. Okay, I totally am, but you have no reason to think that!) I place my usual order, Taylor places his order, and we sit on stools at the counter by the window.
“My friends are having a little get-together on Saturday,” I say. “Would you like to come? They’re very keen to meet you, but you can say no.”
“If we’re dating,” he says, “I should meet your friends, shouldn’t I?”
“Well, you are my friend and you’ve met yourself, so in a way, you’ve already done it.”
He laughs, as though I’m funnier than I actually am. “Look at you, being social. You had a hot bowling date a week and a half ago…”
I know he’s just joking with the word “hot.” I know that. But it feels like he can read my mind, which is particularly distressing given the dreams I’ve been having lately. Last night’s dream, for example, was wrong on so many levels.
