But a perfect hook-up, followed by a perfect evening, followed by a perfect morning? I was starting to wonder if Claire could be real.
After I dropped Claire back at her place, I headed home. I didn’t mess around this time. I knew I was going to want to see her again. For sex, maybe, but also just to be with her. So I texted her right away that I had a great time, and would like to do it again. Kim had been right about that. Claire wasn’t the girl you played games with.
Claire had answered she was busy with work stuff, but she could maybe do dinner the day after next. That was good. It gave me time to think over what was happening because it wasn’t casual anymore.
Things had shifted during our evening of chatting and watching TV. Or maybe they had changed while we slept, fully clothed, in each other’s arms. Or perhaps things with Claire had been different from the moment we met, and I had just been in denial.
I couldn’t push it to the side anymore and tell myself that Claire was just another girl to hook up with. I had always known she could be dangerous, but now I had to admit that I was officially in danger of falling for her hard.
The thing was, the thought of falling no longer filled me with fear and revulsion. I didn’t have terrifying images of Claire worming her way into my heart only to break it. I didn’t foresee a future of cheating and betrayal.
Instead, I saw lazy afternoons curled up with Claire on her couch. I saw us planning long bike trips. I could see us celebrating anniversaries and even moving in together. It was reckless to think that way, but I couldn’t help myself. The crazy thing was, it didn’t even bother me. I didn’t feel like I was letting myself down or being weak. I felt good. For the first time in a long time, I believed in something.
At the same time, my cold and practical side knew that this was huge. A lifetime of philosophy on love and relationships was being tossed out the window. And yes, it felt good, but that didn’t mean it was good. Or maybe it was good now, but would it be good in six months? Or a year?
Whenever my mom met a new guy, things were always good. Sure, I saw the red flags, but my mother never did. It was a chilling thought, but maybe I was in my mother’s shoes. Maybe there were red flags all over Claire, and I just couldn’t see them. I was blind.
I pictured Claire, her eyes big and gleaming as she looked at me right before we kissed. I heard the way she talked about her work, with jokes and sly phrases, but I could still tell she cared about what she did. I imagined the way her mouth quirked at the edges when she talked about all the adventures she wanted to have and places she wanted to travel.
There were no red flags in sight. Claire was smart and funny and charming. Not to mention gorgeous. I couldn’t obsess over Claire anymore. It was getting pathetic. I grabbed my phone and texted Moves:
Drinks at Blue Dog? 6?
He responded right away telling me that he would be there. That was the best thing about Moves. He never turned down a drink.
When I got there, I grabbed a beer and headed straight for a table in the corner. I knew that Moves could happily set up shop at the center table and start holding court, but I wanted a more private conversation.
Moves walked in and made a beeline for the table. Once we had settled in with our drinks, Moves looked me in the eye and raised his brows. “So? What’s going on?”
“How do you know something is going on?”
“Because you look practically giddy,” Moves said.
I rolled my eyes. However I looked, I knew it wasn’t giddy.
“Seriously, tell me,” Moves said.
“I’ve been seeing this chick,” I said.
Moves was never one for underreaction. He slammed his palm flat on the table and let out a whoop. Then he leaned back and gave a low whistle.
“You, Pin Gallegos, are actually seeing someone?” he asked. “Not hooking up, not just doing casual hang-outs with?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ok, ok I’ve been single for a while.”
“Not single,” Moves said. “Anti-love.”
“I am not anti-love,” I said. “You can’t be anti-something if it doesn’t exist.”
“Jesus,” Moves muttered.
“Ok, ok,” I said. “Can I just get back to the current issue, I could use your advice.”
Moves perked up at that. “But of course. The master is always happy to help the apprentice.”
I took a swig of beer. “I would not call you a master. But I will admit, you have more faith in relationships than I do.”
Moves nodded.
