Page 45 of The Wild Card
But I like even more that Collin asked before assuming.
“You said you had the perfect breakfast in mind.” I leave out thehangoverpart. “I have no allergies, and I like just about everything. But no jalapeños.”
If we were in Kansas City, I wouldn’t need to add the last part. But this is Texas. You just never know what Texans will add jalapeños to—even breakfast. While out to dinner with Harper in Austin the other night, I found myself picking sliced jalapeños off my mac n’ cheese.
“We’ll take two Howdy Sunshines,” Collin says, then grins at me. “Hold the jalapeños on Molly’s, please.”
“Coming right up!” Nan says, disappearing back into the kitchen.
There’s a long moment of silence left behind as Collin and I both take sips of coffee. The awkwardness surprises me, but maybe it shouldn’t.
Before yesterday, Collin and I barely knew each other. Now, we’ve been through a lot of unusual circumstances. I find myself longing for the comfortable ease I felt around him last night.
My memories might be a little fuzzy, but what’s very clear to me is how much I like Collin and how much I’d like to be liked by him.
If not romantically, at least as a friend. Though on my side it would be friendship with a heavy dose of crush feelings.
I set down my mug. “I have a serious question for you.”
All traces of humor leave Collin’s face. He suddenly looks exhausted, and I fight the urge to reach across the table and take his hand. It felt so easy yesterday, but today … I don’t know where we stand.
“Ask me anything,” he says.
Tempting. But I go with what I planned, keeping my face expressionless. “Why do Texans put jalapeños on everything?”
A laugh bursts out of him, long and loud. A tightness I’d barely registered in my chest loosens. A few people glance our way, but most people in the packed diner seem to be happily ignoring us. I relax into the booth, circling my hands around the warm mug of coffee.
“I was expecting a different kind of question,” Collin says, wiping his brow as though feigning relief. “Anactuallyserious one.”
“I’m actually serious. Jalapeños don’t belong on breakfast, Collin.”
“This is a point on which we’ll have to agree to disagree, Molly-girl.” His eyes twinkle as he leans forward, linking his fingers on the tabletop. My stomach does a little shimmy in response, then drops at his next words. “But we should probably agree on what happens next with our little … situationship.”
Ah, yes. The great woolly mammoth in the room.
“How did your conversation with Chase go?” he asks.
“I … didn’t have it.” I make a face. “I avoided him, going to a coffee shop and then ended up at Wolf’s Bar.”
“Ah. That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
Collin smirks. “Your brother texted me last night. Implied I’m holding you hostage. Requested I return you at some point today.”
“I’m not a hostage.” I frown. “Or a library book to be returned.”
Once again, Collin laughs, and I like that I have the ability to make him do so. “I tried to tell him.”
“How did it go with your family?” I ask.
Collin rubs the back of his neck. “I avoided mine too.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Well, at least we’re on the same page.”
“My dad knows, though.”
This makes my stomach drop. Tank Graham is intimidating. Not in the usual way where someone makes you feel small or afraid, but in the way where I crave his approval. I may not have spent much time with him, but it’s clear how much he adores his family and how much they, in turn, love and respect him. I don’t want Tank to think badly of me.
