Page 22 of The Comeback

“Do you miss California?” Maybe a certain gorgeous woman who makes me feel dumpy? “Or New York?”

“No. I haven’t thought about it. Especially since I took up ballet.”

I shove off the counter and open the cabinet door, searching for a skillet. “So, you do enjoy ballet?”

“When you’re doing it.”

A slow smile curves up to my cheek as I crack an egg and drop it into the skillet. He’s good at phone flirting. At least, I think this is flirting. It’s not like I’m an expert at it. But whatever it is, I don’t want the conversation to end.

When I glance at the stove, I roll my eyes. I forgot to turn on the stovetop. At this rate, I’ll starve to death, mooning over him.

As I wait for the egg to cook, we talk about television shows we watched as kids and our favorite foods. The longer we talk; the more I discover we have in common.

“What was one thing you collected when you were a kid?”

“You’re going to laugh.” Heat creeps up my face as I turn off the stovetop. Unfortunately, I can’t blame the kitchen’s temperature for why I’m blushing.

“No, I won’t.”

“Okay, here goes nothing. I collected unicorns. Unicorn everything. I had a unicorn comforter, curtains, a rug, and of course, I had a stuffed unicorn.”

“What color?” I hear the laughter in his voice, but it makes me feel warm inside, instead of feeling silly. I grab my plate and sit down at the table.

“All the colors.” I chuckle and scoop a bite of eggs onto my fork. “So, tell me a deep, dark secret of your own. Spill it.”

“Let’s see. Let me think for a second. I don’t want to tell you something that makes you decide we can’t be friends anymore. I’m thinking of what your deal breakers might be.”

I’m discovering I might not have any deal breakers with him, and it’s not even making me want to run.

“I collected all kinds of things. Baseball cards. Stamps. Toys. My mom had to work hard to get anything she gave me, so I took good care of everything. Most of the items are still in their original boxes and have never been out in the air.”

“That’s amazing.”

An hour later, I yawn and stretch. When I move my neck, I groan.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you on the phone for so long talking about random stuff.”

“Don’t apologize. I enjoyed talking to you.” I want to spend the night talking to him, but I’ll be useless tomorrow. With a test in Applied Psychology in my future, that would spell disaster. I need to study.

When I glance at the clock, my eyes widen. It wasn’t an hour. It was two hours. How in the world did we talk about nothing for two hours? And yet, I’d happily keep going.

“Yeah, me, too. I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams.”

The phone clicks in my ear, and I drop it down to my heart. Despite my best intentions, I’ve lost the battle of keeping him at arm’s length. The question is–will I regret it?

Chapter Twelve

The Next Morning

Weston

“I can’t believe you made me get up this early and come to a dance studio.” Piper trudges along the sidewalk leading up to Charlotte’s door.

I drop my arm around her shoulders. “The instructor is good. Like I said, she’s been through something like your situation, and she’s doing fantastic now.”

“How is it similar? Did she get run over by a drunk driver and almost get killed?”

“No. Well, yesterday morning….” I pause for a second. Never mind. If I tell her we went out to breakfast, she’s going to suspect I’m only bringing her here to get in good with Charlotte. Not the other way around. “Forget about that.” I squeeze her shoulder. “She was injured while playing sports like I was, but it sidelined her college basketball career.”

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