“No matter if you go with me or not, if you stick to Solo February or not… you should know that whatever it is between us right now? It’s not casual. Not for me.”
I meet his gaze, dark and serious.
“I think… I think I’m falling in love with you, Sora.”
Sixteen
SORA
Love comes when you least expect it. That’s why they need to make security surveillance systems for the heart.
—SOLO FEBRUARY CHALLENGE
Okay.
He said he’sfallingIN LOVE with me. Say… what? How can he be on the edge of L-bomb territory? It’s been a nanosecond. I mean, I know we’ve known each other forever, but most of that was when we were kids, and not to mention a big chunk in the middle where we didn’t really know each other at all. But he seems so sure. So confident.
I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out, if I’m honest, because Jackseemslike the real deal. That’s the only way to describe him: hot, selfless, genuine, wise, and he’s into me.
Maybe he’s… my one?
I fidget with the gorgeous, gold-lined invite. My ticket to theGolden Chef Awards. I can’t believe he gave it to me. Of all the women in the city he could invite, he invitedme.
How is that even possible? People don’t fall in love that fast. Do they?
A quick Google search tells me that there’s actual science that says all you need is thirty-six personal questions and one hour.
O-kay, so maybe people do fall in love this fast.
I’m literally humming tunes to myself while I head to the kitchen to brew coffee, daydreaming about Jack, who drove me home last night, and then walked me up to my apartment, and kissed me gently at my front door. I wanted to invite him in, but he had an early morning at the bakery today, and besides, I amtrying—sort of—to keep my #GoSolo pledge.
Because theSolo Februarymessages keep pouring in.
Help! I got smashed and went home with someone last night. Can I still #GoSolo?
My coworker asked me out. Can I go AND #GoSolo?
I don’t know if I can do this. #GoSolo is just so hard!! Any tips for those of us out here hanging by our fingernails?
I’m wading through the hundreds of messages feeling like the worst kind of fraud. I’m pretending I have all the answers when clearly, I have none.
I am also about to be onLet’s Talk!I’ll be discussing how I’ve taken a #GoSolo vow when I’m not at all sure I plan to keep it. Or that I am keeping it, anymore. I feel like I’m living a double life.
Then again, how different is this from the time I ranked concealers for our special cosmetics issue? I work from home. I barely shower, much less wear makeup. Please.
But with every question I answer, every #GoSolo debate I weigh in on, that nagging guilt just gets worse.
And remember how Jack said he’s falling for me? Falling forme.
I need to tell him I’m going to go onLet’s Talk!But… what am I going to say? “You’re falling in love with me, great. I’m going to go on national TV and trash love and relationships. Remember how you spent all of last night trying to convince me to give love another chance? So, I guess the answer is no. By-eeee!”
Larry trots over to me in the kitchen, never wanting to miss the opportunity I might drop food, and tries to come and lean into my leg, but misses it and hits the cabinet door instead. Poor guy. I reach down and scratch him behind the ears, and he looks up at me, his permanent wink on, and lolls his tongue out. Arial calls then.
“Love the ‘babysitting on Valentine’s’ piece? So cute? Yes? But… one question? Who is the friend you refer to? ‘Friend’s niece’?”
Damn it. Why does she have to ask questions like that? Does she think she’s my editor or something? “Uh, just a friend.”
“Can we identify her?”
