Page 139 of The Girlfriend Zone

I glance at my artist friend, her pace slowing as we stroll up Fillmore. The easy rhythm of our conversation falters when she turns to me and asks thoughtfully, “But what happens next?”

My stomach knots. “You mean how long will we keep this up?”

“Yes,” she says gently, her concern laced with kindness.

I don’t answer right away. My thoughts bump into each other—the way I feel for Miles, but also how sticky the situation is. How long can it go on like this? But then, there are all my own fears too—of the future and what it holds for me. I just don’t know what that means for romance, for a partner, or for how I might want to, or more so,need tolive my life. “I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “It’s a lot to figure out—how to time everything right. I don’t want to shock my dad or hurt him, especially this early in the season. Plus, Riley’s already looking into where she might want to go to college, so the two of them are trying to squeeze in some college visits when he has a day off here and there. He’s ridiculously busy. And there’s just…other stuff too,” I say since some things you need to sort out for yourself.

Maeve nods thoughtfully, understanding passing in her eyes even if she doesn’t know the specifics of my fears. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

It’s a relief to hear that from her—maybe exactly what I needed this morning. “And…” I hesitate, before another truth springs free. “I want to be sure. I’m only twenty-four. Do you really meetthe oneat this age?”

Her smile is a little sly as she says, “I met Asher when I was nineteen.”

“But you became friends,” I say, pointing out the obvious. “You didn’t fall for him till ten years later.”

“True,” she acknowledges, sighing too. “A lot’s at stake. You want to be sure, especially if it’s scary.”

I do want to be certain. At my age, what are the chances that this is…the big love? Should I upend so many lives for something that might not be? “Exactly. It’s good to be practical. To be certain,” I say, my fingers drifting to the flower stud earrings Miles gave me more than a year ago—I’ve never stopped wearing them, but is that the same as being sure he’s the one? Questions plague me, and my muscles tighten with worry as my mind whirs. But rather than carry this alone, I turn to Maeve, stopping on the street corner and blurting out, “What if this is the wrong time in my life? There’s so much I want to do work-wise—I even have some great ideas about how to expand my business to help with the rent situation at the studio. The job will end soon enough with the Sea Dogs, but I came up with a plan yesterday when I was at the arena, and I’ve been working out the details in my head.” My heart beats faster, but it’s the kind of speed that comes from being chased. “Is now even the time in my life to…”

Her smile is soft, full of wisdom as she says, “To fall in love?”

I wince. “Yes, it’s kind of awful—falling for someone.”

That cracks her up. “Yes, yes it is.”

But will it last? Is it the kind of thing that’s worth all the upheaval? “I want there to be no question,” I say.

“I hear you.” She pauses, squeezes my arm briefly. “And what I really hear is you need more time, friend.”

And that word—time—settles my wild thoughts. She’s right. That’s exactly what I need. “I do. Thanks. I didn’t even realize how much I needed to hear that.”

She lets go. “I’m always here to share whatever little wisdom I might happen to have.”

“I’d say you have a lot.”

“Love you. I’m proud of you. Tell me about your business idea next time I see you.”

“I will and I’m proud of you too,” I say since youshould always tell your friends they’re amazing. “Love you too.”

We part ways and I feel more calm, thanks to her. As I head to High Kick to meet Miles, I try to let go of the questions that chase me. The how, the when, the will it work?

A few minutes later, my pulse races in a new way, fluttering with excitement once more. Even though I saw him this morning at home, these secret dates are special—necessary even. I have my trusty camera with me so I’ll take the latte and pastry pictures, but the flicker inside me comes from knowing I’ll see him in public.

But where it’s safe to see him.

Like Maeve said, I do need time. And I also need this kind oftimewith Miles. This almost feels like a real romance—dates, shared moments, a glimpse of what life together could be.

As I push open the door, passing the glittery Dolly, I leave the rest of San Francisco behind. Birdie flashes me a knowing smile from behind the counter, grabs a brownie, and hustles around it. With the treat in hand, she ushers me to the back of the café.

“A table forCindyis ready,” she says, and yep, with her use of the dog’s names for us, she’s definitely earned her admission into The Underground Grandma Matchmaking Society.

Miles is here already with a new mason jar of wildflowers for the table, but they have different colors this time—peaches and plums, and the fact that he’s mixed up the assortment every time we’ve met here is so very him. So is the affection in his dark brown eyes. It’s hard not to fling myself at him. To rise up on tiptoes when he stands, to kiss him here, then beyond the doors.

But I dig my nails into my palms, a reminder that we’re here as…friends.

It’s not the brownie I can’t wait for. It’s the moment when I’ll have no more questions.

Today, though, I’m ready for another step—a smaller one, but an important one nonetheless. “You asked about my rent the other week, if I wanted to talk about it,” I tell him after Birdie brings me a tea and him an espresso.

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