Page 55 of Five Dates Between Friends

“Tomorrow then? I need an update.” She was forcing it, I could tell.

“Tomorrow it is.”

We hung up, but I couldn’t shake the suspicion. It was like a moving thing, crawling through my head. I hated that the first place my mind went was Pip having an affair. She and Tim had been together forever. They were the relationship that gave me hope. But it was usually true that no one really knew what went on behind closed doors.

I tried to think back to Savanna’s birthday, to remember if anything seemed odd, awkward or strained, and I came up empty. I had been seriously drunk by the end of the night and disgustingly hungover the next morning, but surely I would have noticed if my sister was unhappy? Wouldn't I? Had I been that distracted by Chase that I didn’t notice? I already knew the answer to that.

Hunter howledfrom beside the ring as the ball left my hand and sailed in a smooth arc. It sank into the basket with a satisfying rattle of chain.

“What the fuck is going on? You are killing me today. Where’s the Mack who misses more than half his shots?” he asked as I slapped his offered hand. He wasn’t wrong, as much as I enjoyed basketball I was far from a skilled shooter. Yet, today it appeared I couldn’t miss. It was Chase. It had to be. How could I not be in a good mood when I kissed her for a solid couple of hours this morning and would be doing it again in two days? Nothing was going to bring me down right now. Certainly not a little trash talk.

“Just feelin’ good, I guess.”

He didn’t look the least bit convinced, but didn’t push me on it, either. I’d been expecting some comment for at least a half hour, seeing as the last time we saw one another Harley went and announced I was in love with Chase. I would be eternally grateful if that comment never came, because as much as I was enjoying whatever was going on between us, I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk about it. Part of me wanted to, sure, but I was still in that uncertain place. We’d been on a date, we were going on another one, but what the fuck did any of that actually mean?

“You know anyone who’d want to buy a food truck?” Hunter asked as he drove through me on his way to the ring.

“I–what?” I caught the ball and took it to half court as he lingered around the top of the key. That had been about the last thing I expected him to say. I glanced around just in case he was talking to someone else, but the overnight drop in temperature meant the court was all ours today.

“One of our bartenders bought this food truck a few months back, planned to start selling specialty hot dogs. He made them for us a few times—they were really fucking good. The thing is decked out, mostly, he’s put a lot into it. Thought you might know someone who’d be interested.”

“And he can’t keep it?”

He shook his head. “He wanted to, but his girlfriend got pregnant and now he’s freaking out because he needs to support his family. He’s a great bartender, so I’m relieved I don’t need to replace him but I’m also kinda bummed for him, you know? He’s been talking about hot dogs for a fucking year, more, and now he’s just giving it up.” He shook his head. “Anyway, you know anyone?”

I flicked the ball from one hand to the other. “Not off the top of my head, but I can ask around.”

“Thanks man, let me know if you hear anything.”

We went back to the game and, for the first time, I came close to beating him—not that either of us ever really kept score. But, if we did, I was sure the margin would be a whole lot closer today. My brain kept circling back to the food truck. I didn’t think there was room in my brain for anything aside from Chase today, but the food truck would not leave me the fuck alone. Why? It wasn’t like I was going to start selling pies out of a truck. That was ridiculous. That was not a good idea. I didn’t want to do that. I was quite happy making pies for friends and family with no pressure whatsoever, thank you very much. So why couldn't I stop thinking about it?

The next morning,I pulled open the door ready to greet the UPS driver who was bringing supplies for tomorrow’s date, only to find Chase with two coffees and a large bag that smelled like cinnamon.

“Hey, wh—what are you doin’ here?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Good to see you too.” She pushed past me.

“It’s always good to see you Chase.” I hooked her around the waist and swallowed her squeak of surprise as our mouths met. As much as I had to do today, I was more than happy to put plans on hold for the time being. My fingers slid through the dark silken strands of her hair as she pressed against me from chest to toe.

“That was more like it,” she said, her lips grazing mine.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later.”

Color bloomed across her cheeks. “I guess I couldn’t wait that long. And I wanted to return the favor for yesterday.”

“That wasn’t necessary, but I love your impatience.”

“That’s good news because I’m hungry and I really want these cinnamon rolls.”

Ten minutes later Chase was perched on one of my kitchen stools cradling her coffee. “I feel like I’m getting a peek behind some previously off limits curtain…” she said, wagging her eyebrows as I retrieved a disc of chilled dough from the refrigerator.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re making pie.” She gestured at me like a gameshow host. “In front of me.”

“And?” I laughed, dusting the counter with flour. I thoroughly enjoyed the way her eyes followed me when I moved.

“And you have literally never let me watch you make pie. You’re wearing an apron, it’s a good look. What are those?”

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