Page 71 of Friends Don't Kiss

“It’s the first time he orders flowers from me for anyone else than his ma,” Randy says. He blushes a bit, then backs out of the apartment and closes the door behind him.

It takes me a minute to collect myself. Last night, after Colton’s non-answer by text, I was vaguely pissed. Where was he? I had the intention of staying up to check when he came back, but in the end, that night riding got the best of me and I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up at four, his truck was here. I went to bed, tossed and turned, sleep out of reach as a growing mental discomfort took a hold of me. In the end, at five I got up and started working.

I take a picture of the bouquet and send it to “Nigel” with a simpleThank You.

An hour later I hear his footsteps on the staircase. My palms moisten like a silly teenager’s, and I wipe my hands, ready to answer his knock on the door. But the footsteps hasten, then there’s the distinct muffled bang of the front door, then the soft rumbling of Colton’s truck starting.

Not gonna lie, I’m feeling a little off-kilter. The firefighter hold. The hot chocolate near the bonfire. The kiss on the cheek. The flowers.

The whole talk about how relationships are supposed to work.

All this is so sweet and unexpected but also a little… distant? Even his speech—I haven’t been able to process it yet. He was talking about us, but he wasn’t. I could have used a whole night of hashing it out, except he just vanished. It feels like eating cotton candy when you’re craving pecan pie.

I need pecan pie, so I go to the window and peer out.

Colton’s face is looking straight at me, flashing his white teeth in a devious smile that goes straight to my heart.

And he actually winks at me as he peels off the parking lot.

He’s teasing me, taunting me. Taking control of whatever it is that’s happening between us. I should be panicked, but I’m not. I just feel crazy happy, and that’s the scariest thing. I don’t want to lose that.

twenty-six

Colton

Ihavetosay,I’mpretty satisfied with how my plan is going so far. Even if it’s a real challenge to stay away from her. It’ll all be worth it.

The memory of her gazing at me down from her window plays as a softening background to the bleak day I have ahead of me. I’ve never thought of Kiara in the role of housewife, waiting for her husband to come home, but I have to admit, knowing she was in the warmth and comfort of her home, probably in light clothing (something easily removable), looking down at me with—what was that in her gaze?—desire, longing, affection, any or all of these—made something stir inside me that I never thought I harbored.

I wanted that. I could picture this as our future. Sharing an apartment, or maybe a small house if we could afford it. Her being warm and comfy as I braved the elements—fuck, this is so clichéd and outdated. But why do I like it so much?

Just as I liked carrying her in a fireman hold yesterday.

After she left the mountain, I stayed in the truck a bit, so she’d have a head start. If I’d pulled up behind her at Sunrise Farms, there was no way I wasn’t following her into her apartment. And she would have wanted that for reasons I don’t like.

I’m going to show her there’s so much more I could be to her.

So after ten minutes had passed, I pulled out and went to Lazy’s instead of going straight home, even if there was a good chance Kiara was already tucked in bed by that time.

Yeah, just that thought made me hard again.

This morning, I bypass Easy Monday and Millie’s coffee (ah-ma-zing coffee, as the sign says). I’m not in the mood for the curious glances and whispers behind my back. The downside of living in Emerald Creek is that your private moments aren’t private. Which can be an upside, depending on what’s going on in your life. But this morning, I’m not sharing the details of my date with Kiara. Because of course everyone will know we went on a date. A real one, this time. It wouldn’t be Emerald Creek if they didn’t.

I’ll settle for the mediocre coffee I offer at Harper’s Body Works.

I even go as far as sipping it in the garage, in the company of cars, amidst the smell of oil, looking at the heart of the business I’ve created for myself over the past few years, with the help of Merritt.

The first bay is empty, as that’s where we do the oil changes and quick fixes that don’t require an overnight stay. In the second bay is Chris’s truck that was damaged when a deer jumped across the road. Luckily, his pregnant wife, Alex, who was driving, didn’t swerve to try to avoid it. That’s when people getreallyhurt, or worse. Hitting a tree to avoid a deer is not something you want to do. Unfortunately, swinging the wheel is a reflex, and it takes a little training and a lot of nerves to be able to stay the course when collision with the animal is inevitable. Keeping straight and honking are the two things you need to do when a deer is rushing to you. Alex had enough self-control to do that, and the only damage was to the truck.

In the third bay, an Airstream is gleaming softly in the dark. Wendy and Todd, who own the smaller hotel in town, brought it to us so we could retrofit air conditioning units for the cross-country trip they want to take once they retire. Linwood has been working on it, and he’s convinced them to let him source parts to renovate the kitchenette. He’s bringing in a friend to work on the upholstery.

I’m a little envious of him working on that project. There’s something about breathing new life into a vintage work of art that makes all the sweat and elbow grease so worth it. Not to mention the satisfaction of making the owners over-the-top happy, as I know Wendy and Todd will be.

I sit on the steps leading to my office and sift through the printout of orders for the day. Three oil changes, including one for Ms. Angela. An inspection. And a tune-up for… Owen Parker’s bimmer? He was here a few weeks ago. Owen is a major pain in the ass. I sure hope we didn’t miss something last time.

It should be a standard day, with the two projects we have ongoing, and the inevitable calls early morning when the cold makes people’s cars uncooperative. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to leave at five tonight, get in a shower, and be at Lazy’s by six. Maybe Kiara will be there. Tension zings through my veins.

How long should I wait to invite her out again? I know where I’m taking her. Is this upcoming weekend too early? Should I wait a little longer?

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