“You’re not dating,” Ji says. “You’re waiting.”
“What? I date all the time,” I say defensively. “Like every other week, I’m on a date with someone new.”
“That’s the problem,” Missy chimes in. “You’re always dating someone new. You never settle with just one. I think your last serious boyfriend was He Who Must Not be Namedfrom high school.”
Missy’s right. I haven’t had a serious boyfriend since just after my sophomore year of high school. Sure, I dated guys in college, but ultimately, I didn’t feel as strongly for them as I know I’ve felt for another. And since coming back to Colorado, well, let’sjust say the guys I’ve been on dates with are single for a reason. Ji and Missy can’t fault me for that.
“None of the guys I date really interest me,” I say.
“No,” Ji says. “You intentionallychooseguys that don’t interest you. You’re determined to date to show Jordan that you’ve moved on from him, but you also date losers to keep you from getting into a serious relationship. That way, if Jordan decides to fall for you, you’re wide open. You’re stalling your life for him in the hopes that one day he’ll turn around and love you as more than a friend.”
A slap to the face would have stung less than those words. As my mouth goes dry, I’m left searching my brain for an honest rebuttal, but I come up empty.
I have never admitted it out loud, but Jordanwasa major factor in taking the internship in Colorado after I finished college—so much so that I chose the Wonderman & Fleck internship over two other internships I was offered in California. Yes, Ji and Missy were here, and the idea of living with them was extremely exciting, but in all honesty, I wanted to come back to Colorado to see Jordan again. To see if his feelings had changed.
But they haven’t.
“Obviously you can be his friend, Paige,” Missy says, filling the silence. “But you also need to find a way to move forward.”
“How?” It’s the only word I can manage.
“By truly dating people.” Missy smiles a little. “Funny, smart, interesting people you actually want to date. Someone who’s not just a placeholder for Jordan but who can hold his own place in your heart.”
I know deep down that what my friends are saying is true. If Jordan hasn’t said he loves me by now, he doesn’t. I can’t keep waiting around and hoping. But how can I even think about giving my heart to another person when I’m in love with Jordan?
“I’ll think about it.” I know that’s not the answer they’re looking for, but for now, it’s the best I can give.
Chapter 8
JORDAN
Are those honey blaze nectarines?
I push the shopping cart closer to the edge of the produce aisle until I can see the little sign. “Paige, they’ve got honey blaze nectarines now.” I hold up the seasonal red fruit that has been Paige’s favorite since she discovered them in high school.
Paige’s face instantly brightens. “Have I mentioned how much I love June?” she says from across the rows of fruit, her hands full of berry cartons.
“How many do you want?”
“Um, four… no, five.”
I bag six. She’ll get through them before the weekend and want more.
Paige meets me at the end of the aisle and places her strawberries and raspberries in the cart next to the apples and nectarines I gathered. Then, as per usual, we head down the vegetable section, and I examine the bags of romaine lettuce while she picks out the cilantro and parsley.
At the beginning of the year, Paige and I had a series of months where the only time we saw each other was on the weekends. She was new to her internship and eager to prove herself, which meant longer hours for her at work, while I had more clients than I knew what to do with and not enough employees. We figured if we ever wanted to catch up during the week, we would have to multitask. Since then, we’ve been Tuesday-night regulars at our local McGregor’s grocery store, shopping and catching up.
I flip over a bag of organic romaine lettuce, checking through the clear plastic for any bugs or brown spots. Sure enough, little black bugs fleck the inside, and I wince. Paige claims the tiny beetles wash off, but the thought of an accidental bug mixed in with my ranch and croutons is enough to send a shiver down my spine. I put one beetle bag in the cart for Paige and get myself a bag full of chemical-sprayed lettuce.
The cart squeaks to life as I follow Paige through the next two aisles, grabbing our usual fare. Eventually, we stop in front of the greeting cards, and I watch Paige pick up two possible birthday cards for her cousin who lives in Maine. Paige reads both of them, puts them back, and picks them up again before she ultimately puts them back and picks up different cards. Paige’s mouth scrunches, and I can tell she’s overanalyzing how each card will be received.
I hunch over the shopping cart, resting my elbows on the handle. It’s going to be a while.
After several minutes, she holds up two drastically different cards. “Should I send something funny like I did last year or something more serious that lets her know I’m grateful for her?”
I point to the colorful one with the goldendoodle wearing a cape. “I say the funny one, but then again, does Alicia like dogs?”
Paige’s forehead furrows in thought. “I don’t know. Her family had a dog when we were young, but after it died, they didn’t get a new one. Maybe they didn’t get a new dog because it was too painful to replace their old dog?”
