Paige’s hand pauses for the briefest moment before reaching for another bag. Then she finishes loading her groceries like she’s in a grocery-stacking competition, nothing but pure determination on her face.
We quickly run out of bags to pile into my car, and she slams the trunk down with serious force, making the license plate on the back rattle. When she finally meets my eyes, her gaze is intent. “Do you want me to go on a date with Ian?”
My hands white-knuckle the handle of the empty shopping cart as I try not to react to her question. “Sure,” I manage to say with a shrug.
She nods and closes her eyes as if that statement was a declaration and not the flimsiest word in the English dictionary. Then her eyes drift open, and when they do, she smiles for the briefest moment. “Okay then. I’ll go.”
“Okay then.” I nod, mirroring her breezy tone.
Paige pivots and gets into the passenger seat. She turns on Kelly Clarkson’sStrongeralbum, and we drive home, just like any other Tuesday night.
I should be happy. Paige and I have broken down a barrier, and we have no awkward tension. We’re as buddy-buddy as ever.
So why, then, do I feel like a part of me just died in that parking lot? Like my time’s running out? Like I’ve lost her already?
But I remind myself that this is how it has to be. Paige was never mine to keep.
Chapter 9
PAIGE
Your application to Z3 Group has been submitted.
I read the words on my laptop three more times.I did it. I actually applied.An unexpected laugh bubbles out of me. For the first time in a long time, I feel hope. Hope that I’m swimming in the right direction and not struggling against the tide. For nearly three weeks, I’ve been scouring the internet for copywriting jobs in Colorado, but not one of them feels like a logical next step for me. But applying to Z3 feels right, and I have last night’s conversation with Jordan in the McGregor’s parking lot to thank for it.
I snap my laptop shut and grab my phone before hopping onto my bed and sinking into my pillows. “All right, Cabby. I’ve finished one monumental task today—why not make it two?”
Cabby, my cat, perks up and jumps onto my bed using a chair and a desk to parkour her way up. She makes a pillow out of my robe as she yawns and stretches across my stomach. I scratch her black-and-gray fur with one hand while my other finds Jordan’s text with my blind date’s name and number.
Ian.The name stares back at me from my phone screen. It’s not exactly my favorite name. Thanks to my history, “Ian” ranks right up there with Brutus.
I close my eyes and try really hard not to count this against my future blind date. Zia wanted me to call Ian to make sure we were all set for Saturday.Woof!Is there anything more awkward than a double date with one couple who knows nothing about each other while the other established couple watches like it’s a reality-dating show?
I’m going to reward myself with a cucumber-lemon facemask after this.
My thumb hovers above the 808 area code of Ian’s number, and curiosity gets the better of me. I take a second to look it up. The area code is from Hawaii. That’s intriguing, but I’m still lacking motivation for this call. I spend the next few moments thinking of several excuses that could get me out of this date—but my budding plans die a quick death when I remember how Jordan responded when I asked him if he wanted me to go out with Ian.
“Sure,” he’d said. Then he shrugged.He shrugged!As if me dating another guy in front of him was as meaningless as what spoon he uses to eat his breakfast cereal.
Meanwhile, my heart has been feeling like it’s been cut open by a hundred dull knives and fed to a pack of ravenous hyenas, all of them laughing at me for being such an idiot for so many years.If I wasn’t completely certain about Jordan’s lack of romantic feelings toward me before that moment, I am now. A bucket of ice-cold water to the face could not have driven that point home more clearly.
“I’m moving forward,” I say to Cabby Cat. “I’ve applied to my dream job, and now I’m going on a date with Ian, the ten. Okay, so his name docks him a point. But I’m good with a nine. But then again, if he’s related to Zia, and Zia and Jordan get serious, that will dock him five points right there. I’m cool with a four, though, right?”
Cabby Cat stretches her neck up and looks at me with slitted eyes as if to say,Stop stalling.
Before I can think too hard about the pathetic implications of conversing with my cat, I push the call button.
Three rings later, a husky, deep voice answers the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi.” My palms start to feel clammy. “Is this Ian?” An irrational fear flares inside me—maybe Zia didn’t tell him about our date—and I briefly wonder if I’ll have to explain to this stranger that we’re going on a blind date this Saturday. The thought makes my body tense.
“Yeah. Is this Paige?”
My shoulders instantly relax. He does know who I am. “Yeah. Your cousin Zia…” What?Signed you up for this date? Made me call you? Is going out with the man I love?I definitely should have thought this through beforehand. But as I struggle to complete whatever awkward statement would have come out of my mouth, Ian steps in.
“My cousin Zia… is persistent,” he says. “I hope she didn’t pressure you into this.”
Once again, I feel more tension drain from my muscles. I’m glad that this Ian can pick up the conversational slack. I’ll give him a point for that.
