“Wait. You actually went to that?”
“I did,” I say with a chuckle. “Myles came as my date, and he was really sweet and affectionate, pretending to be my boyfriend.” I smile to myself as I raise my cup for a sip of coffee. Geoff arches a knowing eyebrow and I drop the smile, rolling my eyes. “Anyway, at the dinner party I realized that they aren’t alike at all. You were totally right. The similarities between them are superficial.”
“Hmm,” Geoff says, ripping open a packet of sugar and dumping it into his cup with a smirk.
“Hmm what?”
“Well, you’re out of reasons now.”
“Reasons?”
He gives me a sly little grin. “Reasons to stay away from him. If he’s really sweet, if he’s nothing like Mark… Why won’t you just admit you like him?”
“Because…” I hesitate, rubbing my arm.Because…?I’ve got nothing. Shit, this isn’t good.
Geoff reaches across the table for my hand, taking me by surprise. “Cat,” he says gently. “It’s not going to kill you to admit you like him.”
I glance down, feeling all my snarky, sarcastic retorts vanish. “It might,” I say unsteadily. “I just… I don’tknow, Geoff. I don’t want to make another mistake.”
Geoff sighs. “I know this doesn’t look exactly how you thought it would, but that doesn’t mean it’s not good—thathe’snot good. Do you think he’s a good guy?”
I nod before I’ve even had a chance to think it through. Because he is, I know that much. All I have to do is think about the way he reacted when I confided in him yesterday, or all the work he’s done for me, or just… him.
“Well—” Geoff shrugs, picking up his coffee again. “That’s all you need to know right now. If he’s a good guy, and you like him… just be open to seeing what happens.”
Just be open.He makes it sound so simple.
“You could try meditating on it,” he suggests, chuckling to himself.
I give him a withering look. “No. Thank you.” But as I raise my cup to my lips, I wonder if maybe he’s right about the other thing—if maybe I could try being more open.
28
Ican’t believe it—Hayley and I got the booth!
We officially got offered a booth at the EVMC via email this morning, which means we can begin selling there in two weeks. We celebrated with an impromptu in-store party, putting up some balloons and pumping up the music. It’s been so much fun.
And by the early afternoon I’ve thought about Geoff’s words a lot. After getting the good news with the booth, I’m feeling more optimistic. I want to try being open; I want to see if something could develop between me and Myles. It’s not like we have to jump into a relationship, or anything—but maybe we can spend some more time together, like we did last night, and just… see. He enjoyed last night as much as me, that was obvious, so hopefully he’ll be open to this idea, too.
But when Myles arrives at the store and throws me his usual self-assured grin, I know everything has shifted; we’ve veered right back into friendship territory. I guess I did kick him out of bed this morning, so it’s not surprising he’s pulled away.
It’s probably for the best, anyway. We need to focus on getting the site up and running so I can leave here and stop worrying about money—and Mark. Still, I can’t deny the disappointment that wraps around my ribcage when he doesn’t try to kiss me.
“Hey,” he says, lugging a huge bag over one shoulder, his camera bag over the other.
“Hi.” I try not to gawk at the white T-shirt he’s wearing with his faded jeans—the one I’ve seen at least a dozen times but has never before lookedquiteso gorgeous. He’s got his black, flat-peaked cap on again with a few curls escaping out the front. I know I made fun of him for looking like a skater, but right now he just lookshot.
He sets the heavy bag down on the front table, glancing around. “What’s with the balloons?”
I smile. “We got the booth, so we’re celebrating.”
“Oh, that’s awesome!” A grin tears across his face and he holds up his hand to high-five me. I smack it with a laugh. There’s a moment between us where we stare at each other, grinning like idiots, and I feel like I did at dinner last night: there’s someone in my corner, cheering me on, and I’m not alone.
Gazing at him, I get the sudden, desperate urge to kiss him, to thank him for everything he’s done, for making this possible by believing in my business—by believing inme. I think he sees it on my face, because there’s a flash of something in his eyes before he pulls his gaze away, clearing his throat.
“I, uh, was thinking we should shoot downstairs.” He gestures to his camera bag. “That way I can control the lighting better. Plus there’s that wall with the peeling paint that would look really cool in the background.”
I nod, reaching over to pat Stevie on her cushion. Mark dropped her off a few hours ago and—I couldn’t believe it—had very little to say to me. Maybe Myles really did put him in his place last night.
