He laughs. “Very funny.” I can’t help but smile as I pick up the vase and put it on the towel before placing it in the middle of the island. “I called you.”
“I know.” I lean onto the counter, looking down at the phone. “What is this, two thousand and five? No one calls anyone anymore. We text,” I inform him.
“How am I supposed to ask you to come over for dinner through text?” he asks and I stand up, looking down at the phone. Seeing the time tick by, my heart pounds in my chest. “Isn’t that like an informal invitation?”
“No,” I reply.
“No to dinner, or no to it’s not informal?” He chuckles and I can hear him moving in the background.
“I’m not sure,” I say, “I really haven’t?—”
“Well, we were going to have tacos,” he tells me, “even though it’s not Tuesday, but it’s the option that won.”
I put the bottom of my foot on top of my other one. “We?”
“I have the kids, and I was thinking you would like to come over and have dinner with us.”
“I…” I start to say, “I don’t really--”
“Kylie,” he says my name and I close my eyes. I’ve been thinking about him nonstop since I opened my eyes yesterday. I went out of my way to keep myself busy by going to not one but two Pilates classes, something that is going to hurt tomorrow. Then I decided to go to the farmers market. On a Sunday. A Sunday when there are so many people it’s hard to even walk, but I did it. “It’s just dinner.” The thought of having dinner with him and his kids scares the shit out of me. “We are even having nachos,” he says in a whisper.
“Well, are they loaded nachos or just chips and salsa with queso?”
“Loaded.”
“Well, how can one say no to loaded nachos?” I close my eyes. I can’t even believe I’m actually saying yes to this.
“Perfect, I’ll send you my address.” I look over and see it’s just after four.
“What time do you eat?” I ask him, looking down at my yoga outfit.
“Usually between five thirty and six, but you can come over whenever you want. Now is good.”
“I just got home,” I tell him. “I have to shower and then I’ll come.” I pick up the phone and head to the bedroom with it. “And I have to pick up dessert.”
“You don’t have to pick up dessert.”
“I’m not coming empty-handed,” I inform him as I turn on the shower. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
“Fine, then come whenever,” he states. “See you soon.” He hangs up and I look down at the phone. Everything in me is telling me to text him an excuse to get out of it. And I mean everything. Every fiber in me is telling me this is a bad idea.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell myself as I step out of the shower. I walk back to my phone and press the address he sent me and my maps open up, showing me it’s a twenty-minute drive. I head to the closet, rushing as I slip into a pair of light-washed jeans that are loose and then slip on a white bra and a white high-neck sleeveless tank top. It falls just above the waist of the jeans. I slip on a white long-sleeved button-down shirt with blue stripes. I roll the cuffs up to the middle of my arms. I brush my hair and tuck it behind my ear, the curls still there from Friday, and I put on a pair of sneakers before rushing out of the house.
I stop at the small bakery near my house, opting to bring cinnamon buns instead of cupcakes. I second-guess the decision the whole way to his house.
I pull up to the address and take a second, holding onto the steering wheel, my stomach feeling like it’s going to come out of my throat. I see his SUV parked in the driveway as I take in his house. It’s a house I can totally see him in. Modern yet sleek. The front door is brown with eight windows and it’s surrounded by more windows on the side of the door as well as all the way to the roof. I grab the bag from the passenger seat, picking up my phone, and tucking it into my back pocket.
I nervously walk up the paved driveway to the front door and take a deep inhale before I press the doorbell.
I can see him walking to the door and I can’t help but smile when he opens it. He’s wearing a pair of black joggers with a black Warriors T-shirt. “Welcome,” he greets me, putting his hand out to the side and then moving to let me step in.
“Hi, am I late?” I ask him, not sure if I should go in for a side cheek kiss or a hug.
“You are right on time.” He closes the door behind me. “I was just going to put the nachos in.” He looks down at me, both of us not sure what to do. “You look very pretty,” he compliments softly. My breathing comes in slowly. “But then when don’t you look pretty?” I swallow down the lump. “Come in,” he says before turning to walk into the house.
I take a look around to see the ceiling in the foyer is open all the way up to the top of the house. The room on the right is the formal living room with a baby grand piano in the corner, which is in front of what must be the formal dining room. The staircase is very modern, all wood but open between. I make my way into a hallway and then enter where I think they usually hang out. The room opens again like it does at the entrance, making the family room light up in the natural light from the windows taking up the entire back of the house. The massive U-shaped couch faces a television and fireplace. “Guys, come and say hi to Kylie,” he urges, and I see the kids pop up from the couch, with Nora being the first one who comes over to me.
“Kylie,” she chirps my name with a huge smile, “we’re having tacos.” She’s looking at the white bag in my hand.
