Page 26 of The One I Need
“You’re a confident one, Mister….”
“Price,” I say. “Oliver Price.”
“Nice to meet you Mr. Price. I’m Izzy McCall.”
“Nice to officially meet you,” I say. What I don’t say is that I knew her last name after looking her up last week. In my defense, I was just looking at Left for Love’s website for its address. Before I knew it, I was reading her bio and looking through her Instagram. But I didn’t follow her. I’m notthatcrazy.
Neither of us say anything for a beat, and as much as I want to, I know I need to let her control this. If she’s really closed off to the possibility of a relationship, then her calling me is a huge step. So I can wait. I waited all week. I waited today. What’s another few seconds?
“What I was going to say,” she continues, “is that you’re a confident one, Mr. Price. And honestly, kind of ballsy.”
“I felt like I needed to pull out all the stops,” I admit.
“Why did you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why did you?” she repeats. “I mean, I thought we left things on good terms at the hotel. And I thought I was clear that I don’t do relationships. Or date, for that matter. Yet, you went for it one more time. Why?”
I take a breath as I think about exactly what I want to say. This is it. This is the moment that all the presents and deliveries and wishful thinking were leading up to. Yet I can’t remember a single speech I rehearsed.
“I know you’re not a relationship girl, and I respect that,” I begin. “You were right that I’m a relationship guy. Which might make us seem like opposites. But you want to know what we have in common?”
“Good sex and a love of whiskey?”
“Besides that.”
“Color me intrigued,” she says. I don’t know how, but I can tell she’s smiling, which gives me all the confidence I need to keep going.
“Us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, us,” I say. “Out of all the people at the wedding that night, it was us who ended up at the bar next to each other. We could have walked away then. We could have made casual conversation and went about our nights. But we didn’t. I don’t know why you didn’t, but for me, it was because from the moment I asked you to dance, I knew there was something different about you. And I was right. And call me crazy, but I want to learn more about you. I want to spend time with you. I want more. And even if it’s not a relationship. Even if it’s just a friendship where we eventually joke about the great sex we had that one time, I just know that I’m not ready for you to be out of my life. I want an us, no matter what form that comes in.”
I let out a breath when I’m done, and I’m kind of grateful she doesn’t say anything right away. If it was going to be a no, she would have stopped me immediately. Izzy doesn’t seem to be the kind of woman who beats around the bush. However, the longer the silence holds, the more worried I get.
“Yes.”
I jump up from the couch in excitement. “Yes?”
“Don’t make me say it again,” she says. “But I do have a few questions I need answered before any of this happens.”
Thank goodness this isn’t FaceTime right now. She’d think I’m a loon based on how wide I’m smiling. “Ask me anything.”
“Question one: are you a serial killer?”
I laugh. “Would a serial killer tell you they’re a serial killer?”
“Well, no, but I think it’s important to ask.”
“Fair. I’m not a serial killer. I don’t own a gun, and I’m not very good with an ax. But that’s just based on my results from when I went ax throwing.”
“Noted,” she says. “Question two: who helped you this week with the deliveries? Because while I know most of it was you, there’s no way you did it alone.”
“Maybe I did?”
“I should have told you that if you lie, my answer turns to a no.”
