“Thanks.” Brant grabbed his laptop case and headed over to the small, no-frills living room off the entryway. I hadn’t even hung any pictures on the bare beige walls that still had nail holes from the last tenants. At least my old embarrassing school pictures that used to hang there were long gone. I was sure Grandma had them packed away somewhere. She could keep them buried as far as I was concerned.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I offered.
“I’m good for now. Thank you.”
I followed him, and while he took a seat on the couch, I sat on the chintz chair, as far away from him as possible. I curled my feet under me and snuggled Oscar like a security blanket.
Brant set the pink bag on the coffee table and scooted it toward me. “Happy belated birthday.”
I tilted my head. “You already got me something.”
He rubbed a hand over his stubbled cheek.
Lucky hand. I internally shook myself. Stop thinking like that, Kinsley. Oscar really needed to dig his claws into me or something.
“I hardly consider a Target gift card a present.”
“I love Target.”
He gave me a half smile. “I remember, except I’d had something else in mind that I wanted to give you . . . but . . . ,” he trailed off.
“But what?”
His ears pinked a bit. “I thought it might be too personal,” he said in a rush.
I was more than curious now. I reached for the bag. “I hope this isn’t lingerie,” I teased. I thought that would make Brant laugh. Instead, he rocked my world with his reply.
“That would have been a gift for me.”
There suddenly seemed to be this enigmatic tension in the room. I looked between him and the gift I clung to and swallowed hard, not able to read him at all. I held on tight to Oscar, reminding myself to be smart. That I was done with men. Especially men who didn’t choose me. And ones who confused me. I never seemed to know where I stood with Brant. Were we flirty acquaintances, or did he have some real feelings for me?
“I apologize. That was probably too forward,” he interrupted my thoughts.
It wasn’t too forward—it was maddening. Were my grandparents really right? If so, where was this forwardness a couple of years ago? “No need to apologize.” At least for that. He could apologize for breaking my heart. Except, did it really matter now?
“That’s kind of you to say. Why don’t you see what’s in the bag?” He bounced a little on the edge of his seat as if he were excited.
I bit my lip and carefully began to remove the sparkly tissue paper. I did love sparkles, even though glitter was getting all over my black sweatpants. I finally got to the gift—a book. I pulled out the beautiful book—my favorite Colleen Hoover novel.
“Open it,” Brant encouraged.
I lifted the cover to find it signed with a personal note addressed to Kinsley, her biggest fan. All I could do was stare at the personalized message. Not only because I was so touched but because if I looked at Brant, I was going to want to kiss his face off, and that meant Oscar slashing my jugular. And, you know, me going against my principles. But no one had ever done anything this thoughtful for me.
“I finally got around to reading that one. You were right; it was brilliant,” Brant said.
I braved looking at him. “Thank you,” I whispered. “This was so thoughtful. How did you get her to do this?”
He seemed reluctant to say but finally answered. “A friend of a friend is acquainted with her.”
“That’s some friend.”
He nodded.
I had one more question. “When did you have this done?” This couldn’t have been a spur-of-the-moment whim.
He leaned back against the couch and rubbed his neck. “That is an interesting question. Let’s just say I had it done when I probably had no business doing so. Honestly, I didn’t think I would have the opportunity to give it to you. Perhaps I shouldn’t have now.”
Oh. So he did think of me? Even when I had been with Tristan? See how confusing he was? I held on to Oscar and my principles. Not to say I wasn’t going to keep the book. That didn’t violate any of my rules. I had said no men—not that men couldn’t buy me gifts. “I love the book. Thank you,” was all I could think to say.
He flashed me a relieved smile. “You’re welcome.”
I rested the book on the coffee table where I could admire it. “I’m excited to reread it for the tenth time.” It meant I had something to do now other than watch Chuck. I was really living the single life.
He chuckled before he got serious. “I have some other reading material for you.” He reached for his laptop case.