“Or let it damage the relationship you have with him?”
“Oh, good grief,” Britt said irritably. She already knew what they were going to say because they wouldn’t have bothered with such a big lead up if they were simply going to say he didn’t want to date her. They might be a few years older than she was, but there was no reason to treat her like she was twelve. “Just spit it out.”
Willow’s posture radiated calm. “My answer is yes. I think Zander wants to date you.”
“So do I,” Nora said.
She’d anticipated what they’d say. Even so, hearing it out loud rattled her old beliefs so fiercely that it stole her breath. “Let’s eat.” She speared a bite of salad.
Ordinarily, she found the tearoom soothing. All at once, the hum of conversation among the largely retirement-age diners, the whitewashed walls, and even their table’s bouquet of daffodils and green berries grated on her nerves.
As Britt chewed, she watched a drip of condensation zigzag down the exterior of her glass.
Willow spoke first. “If Zander does want to date you, then that might explain why he doesn’t want you anywhere near Ricardo, who might be dangerous. And why he couldn’t stand Reid, who might become your next boyfriend.”
Britt took another bite of salad and directed her vision beyond the tearoom’s windows. Neat storefronts marched down the opposite side of the street, their cheerful signage and awnings contrasting with the day’s drizzly weather.
Here’s why it was hard to confront the idea that Zander might want to date her: Because she knew that Zander’s love was a very serious thing. He wasn’t someone who loved lightly or easily. He didn’t slide into and out of relationships like she did. His love had gravity. Depth. His love held within it the potential of disaster for him. If he loved her, how was he going to come out of that intact?
She didn’t want to injure him in any way. But if he loved her, then she may have been injuring him every time she’d fallen for a new boyfriend—a horrifying thought. If he loved her, how could shenotinjure him?
If he loved her, how could their friendship survive?
If he loved her, why hadn’t he told her? Likely because he’d known she didn’t feel the same way.
She’d been far too immature and headstrong at age fourteen and twenty and even at twenty-four to settle into a love-with-an-uppercase-L relationship with anyone. She’d been well aware that commitment would cost her a measure of her independence, and she hadn’t wanted to give any of it up.
Why should she? She’d never longed for a serious boyfriend or a husband. She could support herself. Her work fulfilled her.
Those were all sentiments she’d expressed often to Zander. Had she hurt him when she’d said all that?
“She’s not saying anything,” Nora observed to Willow as if Britt wasn’t within earshot.
“I think she’s processing.”
“Right. She looks like she’s deep in thought.”
Britt swung her chin to them, narrowing her eyes. “If you’ve never talked to Zander about this, then what evidence do you have to support your theory that he wants to date me?”
Nora swallowed a spoonful of soup and dabbed her lips. “The first time I met him, I could tell how he felt about you based on his body language and the way he looked at you.”
“No!” Britt exclaimed. “Not the first time you met him.”
“All right, then,” Nora allowed. “The second time. It was very early on, little sister of mine.”
“Remember when he gave you his concert ticket so that you could see Nickelback with your friends?” Willow asked. “You forgot to buy your ticket until it was too late, and when you tried, they were sold out.”
“He gave me his Nickelback ticket because he got sick,” Britt said.
Willow looked at Britt as if Britt were being purposely obtuse.
“Remember when he drove you thirteen hours to San Francisco so that you could go on that private tour of the Ghirardelli company?” Nora asked. “Nobody voluntarily drives someone thirteen hours for the fun of it.”
“Remember how sad he was for the entire two years that Britt was in France?” Willow asked Nora.
“I do.”
“I didn’t know he was sad,” Britt said.
