Page 27 of If You Like It, I Love It

“What is your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“And yet, you said no to the blue wallpaper.”

“Too whimsical.”

“I remember.”

“Where are we at on that permit?” she asks.

“We are waiting in line, which we will be doing for at least the next month. If we’re lucky.”

She sighs dramatically, like this is new information. “I don’t have anything left to do.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I chose the appliances. I picked out lighting. I found the perfect island piece. All that’s left is the breakfast nook buildout, and I’ve decided on the wallpaper, which was the last decision I needed to make for that. I’m stuck. Waiting on other people. I’m not good at waiting. I want to see it all done now.”

“You want instant gratification, huh?”

“I know, I know.” She rolls her eyes, making fun of herself because she thinks that’s what I’m doing. “Everybody wants that.”

“I think a lot of people think they want that. But have any of the best moments in your life happened instantly? No. Because you wouldn’t have had time to appreciate them, so they would’ve just been fleeting moments that didn’t mean much. Our best moments become our best moments because we get to experience the buildup. We love the anticipation.”

“Has anyone ever accused you of being a romantic? Because you are. You romanticize everything.”

“Why do you say that like romance destroyed your life?” I wince, remembering as soon as I say it that her husband died. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says with a soft smile. “Loving Bryan didn’t destroy my life. Losing him derailed it for a while, but I’m okay. And it’s okay to talk about him. He was an amazing man, but he wasn’t a romantic by any means. Neither am I, so I guess our romance wasn’t the fairytale type, which was fine because I’m definitely not a princess.”

“Really? I think you might have a little princess in you.”

“I am one-hundred-percent princess-free.”

“Okay. But don’t hit me with anything heavy the next time your inner princess joins the chat and I call her out.”

“Oh, please do.” She laughs to indicate there won’t be any opportunity for me to do this.

I brush the back of my hand over her cheek to push away a section of hair that’s fallen forward. She’s bringing a slice of pizza to her mouth, and I don’t want her to accidentally eat her own hair or get pizza sauce in it . . . and I like being able to see her whole face.

She tenses at the touch of my fingers to her cheek. It’s subtle, but unmistakable. The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable or to have her pull away from me. I lower my hand and reach for a second slice of pizza, pretending I didn’t notice the change. She takes a sip of wine, choosing to ignore it as well.

As a kid I had a habit of getting too familiar too quickly. I thought of every friend as a best friend until I outgrew it, learned to understand that friendships were all different. And then I had to relearn the lesson all over again when I started dating. I was an all-in kind of guy.

But I have no problem navigating adult friendships, and I’ve had adult relationships with women. I know how to navigate those, too. What I apparently don’t know how to do is take it slow with Joni.

She’s right when she says we don’t know each other, and we’re not actually dating. But there’s a familiarity, a level of comfort between us, and I don’t think I’m the only one who feels it.

When she lets her guard down, everything is so easy that it’s hard to remember how new we are to each other. We’re only strangers according to the calendar.

All I have to do is get her to stop caring so damn much about dates on a calendar. Easier said than done, but I’m not ready to give up. Nowhere near ready.

13

Joni

Why is being with this man so easy? I always start our time together with my guard up, on high alert and ready for him to do or say something that proves we’re incompatible, but damn if he doesn’t keep proving the opposite.