Page 46 of The Pucker and the Princess
Tina presses her lips together again, staring at the wall as she thinks. “That does make things more complicated. I knew you were trying to take time away from dating”—she spears me with a look—“which is the smartest choice you’ve made about women sinceI’veknown you.” Waving a hand, she dismisses thatcomment. “Realistically, though, you like Marissa. And you like her as more than a friend. Right?”
Sighing, I sit back in my seat and run a hand over my face. “I mean … I guess so. I’ve been trying so hard for so long to keep her in the friend box?—”
“Would you call it ‘the friend zone?’” Tina asks, giving me a sly look, her mouth curled in a partially suppressed smile.
In response, I shoot her a glare and keep talking. “I’ve been trying to convince myself she’s just a friend—that I don’t want more than that—for so long that admitting to myself I’d prefer more is difficult. But I mean, obviously I wouldn’t have kissed her if I wasn’t attracted to her. I like her. A lot. I like her as a person. I like having her as a friend.”
“But you wouldn’t say no to more?”
I nod miserably.
“If that weren’t an option, if friendship is all she’s willing to offer, are you okay with that?” I open my mouth to answer—the yes coming without having to even think about it becauseof courseI want to have Marissa in my life in whatever capacity she wants—but Tina holds up a hand. “Seriously, Dozer. Stop and think about it. If she’snotattracted to you. If she doesn’t want to date you. You’re fine with that for now, sure, while she’s not dating anyone else. But what if she does? What if she meets someone and starts dating him? Will you be okay with that? Will you be able to hear about how happy she is without getting jealous? Will you be able to listen to her complain about him if things go sour without trying to put yourself in the mix again, shoot your shot, so to speak? Because sure, while you’re both single, you can play-act as friends while spending all your free time together likeyou’re actually dating minus the kissing and sex. And while your moratorium on dating so you can get your head on straight and figure outhowto have a successful relationship is a good plan, I know you wouldn’t have gone all in with those other women if you weren’t genuinely wanting a real relationship someday. Taking time to reflect and work on yourself is good, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a monk for the rest of your life.”
Pursing my lips, I consider what she’s saying. Will I be okay with only ever having Marissa as a friend? If she doesn’t see me as more than that at all?
“The thing is, since neither she nor I are actively pursuing dating right now, I’d have time to come to terms with all of that before it happens, wouldn’t I? And just because I like her and am attracted to her doesn’t mean I couldn’t pursue someone else when the time is right. Hell, maybe I’ll take a page out of Easton’s playbook and wait until I’m retired. Find myself a chick who doesn’t know anything about hockey—and therefore doesn’t know that I’m supposed to be famous—and be happy.” Of course, Marissa didn’t know anything about hockey when we met. She didn’t know I’m famous either.
Tina grins, her expression going soft as she thinks back to our group trip this summer where Troy Easton met Anna and fell hard and fast. “She’s good for him,” Tina murmurs. “And he seems to be doing well in Arcadian Falls. He’s making plans to start a youth hockey league there. Has he reached out to you about it?”
That piques my interest, distracting me from my own ridiculous problems. “No, he hasn’t. I take it he’s talked to Nick?”
Tina nods. “I’ll have Nick tell him that you’re interested in helping too when the time comes.”
“Yeah, for sure. I’d love to. I’ll text him myself, too, so he knows I’m serious.”
“Good idea. But back to Marissa …” I blow out a breath, waiting as she drains the rest of her tea. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I’d give her more time. Don’t call or text. Your instinct there is good. You don’t want to seem crazy. Don’t seek her out, because that’s creepy, but if youhappento bump into her …” I sit up straighter at those words. She shrugs. “Be polite. Be respectful. Act happy to see her. Try to get her to engage in normal conversation. If you can get her to talk to youat allabout anything else, it’ll hopefully give you a way in that you can use to get back to your normal relationship. Or at least something better than the radio silence you’re getting now.”
I blow out a breath and nod. “Thanks, Tina. That seems like a good plan. I think I can do that.”
I hope so, anyway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Marissa
It’s been nearlya week since the infamous movie and kiss incident. Six days without talking to Dozer.
I’ve spent that time immersing myself in work and my project car so I’m not tempted to call him when I’m home alone in the evenings. Even so, I’ve been tempted to call him so many times, I haven’t even tried to keep track. Distraction is key, though watching sports highlights tends to have the opposite effect. Which really sucks because I’ve always loved watching sports highlights. And since meeting him, I’ve gotten into hockey. I’m invested in the Emeralds’ season, and I want them to do well. Sure, it started because of Dozer, but I can just be a genuine fan now, can’t I?
The real trick to not talking to him, though, is opening up the last texts he sent me.
Dozer
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It was a mistake.
Please talk to me.
It was a mistake. Those words gut me every time. Those are the words I didn’t want to hear that night, the reason I fled the scene as quickly as I did. Iknewthat’s what he was going to say. He was acting so cagey and weird as soon as the kiss ended, that was the only option.
The worst part is the endless loop of self-recrimination that plays every time I see those words.
You must be a bad kisser. Why else would he have kissed you and then done a complete one-eighty? Chad told you that you were a cold fish, after all. You chalked it up to him being an asshole—his name’sChadafter all—but maybe he was right. Sure, he was definitely trying to be hurtful too, but maybe it was based in harsh truth. Maybe that’s why Peter wouldn’t commit either. He didn’t want to be shackled to a lifetime of bad kissing and bad sex. Because if you can’t even kiss properly, how can you possibly be good in bed?
Sure, I’ve answered that incessant voice with facts like, Dozer’s always said he doesn’t want a relationship right now. Maybe kissinganyonewould be a mistake because he’s not prepared for more than that.
And while the logical part of my brain acknowledges those facts, the hurt, scared, wounded part can’t let go of the idea that it’s somehowmyfault. That I’m not good enough. That, once again, I don’t measure up.
So I can’t talk to Dozer. I can’t face him. I can’t reply to his text, though my Texas upbringing is also raging at how rude I am for not responding.
