Page 23 of Head Over Heels

“Is she hot?”

“Um, yeah. Blond, tall, stacked—did I mention ponytail?”

Now I’m irritated. “Wearing a ponytail doesn’t mean she’s low maintenance in anemotionalway, Chase.”

“No, but it means she doesn’t plow lots of energy into doing her hair.”

I can’t believe I’m getting sucked into this argument with him, but I am. “Doing your hair isn’t a moral failing. God gave me this hair—” I wrap a fist around it. I love my hair. It’s thick and malleable and a coppery fall-leaf color I’ve never seen on anyone else—naturally. It deserves all the respect I give it. “—and it’s a source of joy to me. And men,” I add.

An odd expression crosses his face. “I’m sure it is.”

“No need for sarcasm.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic.”

I suddenly realize how far off topic I’ve let him steer me. “Did you get me off on this rant to keep me from asking more questions about your date?”

He gives me a sideways look.

I roll my eyes. “She’s perfect, but…?” I draw the last word out. “Without getting into gory details, what happened?”

“I just—I don’t know, whatever.”

“It was just, whatever?” I ask incredulously. “Youwhatever’d the perfect woman?”

I sound outraged, but there’s this little part of me that’s bizarrely relieved. Because I’d thought maybe he was leading up to telling me that shewason the “planning a marriage proposal” end of the scale, which would be so unexpected that—

I don’t know what. Just, really unexpected. So, yeah, relieved that it’s the other way ’round.Whatever-worthy.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “She wasn’tall that,you know?”

“Are you going to see her again?”

He sighs. “Probably not.”

This confirms something I’ve suspected since our “first date.” That Chase doesn’twantto fall for anyone, no matter how many boxes she checks on his list. Maybe evencan’t.

“Chase? We’ve been friends for a long time, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So can I ask you kind of a personal question?”

“No,” he says.

“I’m going to ask anyway.”

“I knew you would.”

“Do you actually want to like the women you go out with? I mean, do you actually want to have a relationship with someone?”

His eyes widen.

“Because, honestly? It seems like you push them away. I always get the feeling you’re relieved when it doesn’t work out so you can keep playing the field and eating crap.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head, considering. Then he shrugs again. “You may be on to something.”

“And tonight kind of convinced me. Because you actually went out with the perfect woman, and where are you? Not cuddling in her bed, not shopping for an engagement ring. Hanging with me.”

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