Page 39 of Falling for Keeps

“This Friday,” he says.

Okay, sooner than I thought. I can swing it, can’t I? “We need to pick a fabric. I know a good store in Burlington with plenty of options. I have tomorrow afternoon off if you have time to meet me over there.”

Carson looks up, like he can find his schedule written in the air. “How about one-ish? I need to be home in time to pick up Penny from school.”

“That works.”

“I’ll pick you up?”

My hesitation is so brief I wonder if he notices. He doesn’t seem to, and I nod quickly. It’s only a car ride. Nothing special, nothing of any meaning. Sitting together for a thirty-minute ride is something friends do all the time. Just because my crush seems to grow every time I see him doesn’t mean I can’t handle being his friend. It means that giving this thing with Seth another chance is important.

I start to head out but look back. “How did Penny’s braids hold up today?”

“They looked great this morning, but they’re starting to get fuzzy.”

I choke on a laugh. “You mean frizzy?”

“Same thing.” His smile is wide. “See you tomorrow.”

I walk back to work with the goofiest grin on my face.

Carson

I pull up to Emma’s house with a truckload of chairs. If I had her number, I could have warned her I was bringing them, but she still hasn’t given it to me, and asking for it feels weird. If I ask for it, that’ll move us up a level on a scale that only I care about. We’ll no longer be acquaintances with a knack for serving each other in times of need.

Okay, I see it. That is the literal definition of neighbors.

So taking us from neighbors to friends isn’t out of line since I’ve already—in my stupid attempt at keeping her firmly out of the romantic zone—mentioned on multiple occasions I’d like to be her friend. It might have begun as a way to protect myself, but we’re shifting to that level on our own. It’s a natural progression.

Friends can have each other’s numbers, right? That’s not weird. I’m really building it up in my head to be something it’s not. Like taking that step after making out with her will cement us as a thing.

She must have heard me drive up, because she’s out the door and coming down the steps before I can get out of the truck. She has a sweater and swingy librarian skirt on, and it all looks so cozy and inviting. Just pose her in front of some fall trees and she’d make the perfect advertisement for all the leaf-peepers we attract each autumn. Her hair is pushed behind her ears and her glasses frame long, dark lashes.

“Hey,” she says, coming up to my window. Well, Ben’s window. He let me trade vehicles for the afternoon since I can’t even fit one chair in my Lexus, let alone a dozen. I’ve been watching Emma since she stepped out her door, so naturally, I’m still sitting in my truck like an idiot.

“I brought the chairs.” Again, stupid thing to say. She can clearly see them. I open the truck door and hop out. “Do you need to take measurements?”

“Actually, that would be helpful so we don’t overbuy.” She immediately heads to the tailgate, and I appreciate her get-it-done attitude. We move all the chairs toward her detached garage, and she disappears inside for a measuring tape. I take notes on my phone while she calls out measurements. It’s the perfect moment to ask for her number so I can copy and paste all of this into a text, but I clam up.

Why does this feel like seventh grade and I’m asking my tennis partner in P.E. for her number for the first time? It got easier and easier, but now I’m out of practice entirely.

“Can I see those notes?” she asks.

“Sure. I can text them to you.”

Emma glances up at me, but she doesn’t say anything. “Okay, let me see your phone.”

I hand it over and watch while she copies and pastes all the numbers into a text and sends it to herself.

She hands my phone back. “I can do this on the road if we want to get going.”

Emma locks her house and retrieves her purse before climbing into the truck, then we’re on the road. She spends the first fifteen minutes of the ride doing calculations and asking me questions I don’t have answers for. “Do you have blinds going up, or do you want to add drapes to the waiting room?”

“Blinds. But…” I glance at her, noting the way her nails tap on her phone while she’s patiently waiting. “I have an idea for the kids’ corner, and I wanted it to be a surprise for Penny.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“A tree house. I talked it over with Ben Walker, and he’s going to help me put it in tonight after Penny goes to sleep.”