Page 139 of The Rules of Dating

Are she and Maya getting close?

I felt like I was going crazy.

Yes, I knew I could’ve just contacted Colby for the answers to those questions, but my ego wouldn’t seem to let me. It had, instead, paralyzed me into inaction.

Eddie finally came up from under my sink and announced that he believed he’d fixed the issue. We ran the water repeatedly to test things, and there wasn’t a leak in sight. He was packing his stuff away when his eyes landed on something lying in my fruit bowl. “What the hell is that?”

Ugh. I meant to discard her. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” I said.

“Care to explain?”

“Not really.”

“Billie…” He lifted it. “There’s a fucking naked Barbie doll with her hair hacked off lying amidst a bunch of bananas. I need an explanation; otherwise, I’m gonna have to assume you’re into some weird, Barbie-fruit voodoo.”

I laughed. “It’s nothing like that.”

He arched a brow. “So what is it?”

“It’s an old habit from childhood.” I sighed. “Barbie’s hair was sacrificed for my mental well-being.”

“Oooh. Okay. That makes total sense.” His eyes widened as if to say “this bitch is crazy.”

“Okay, let me explain.” I took the doll from him and looked down at it. “When I was younger and got upset, I’d take one of my older Barbie dolls and snip away at her hair, strand by strand, until there was nothing left. Something about that process was therapeutic for me. Sort of like one of those resistance balls you squeeze when you’re stressed. Or popping bubblewrap.”

He crossed his arms and laughed. “Yeah, sort of like that… But batshit crazy. I get it.”

I couldn’t blame him for thinking it was nuts, but he’d asked for an explanation.

“Something happened a few days ago,” I told him. “That night I was so frustrated that I went to the five-dollar-and-under store for candy to stress-eat and picked up a cheap, generic Barbie, too. Hadn’t done it in years.”

He glared. “Billie…”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna talk about what the hell made you do that?”

My stomach growled. “I’m starving. Let’s go to the restaurant, and I’ll explain there.”

It was the perfect, clear day in New York City for a stroll. Even though Eddie’s truck was parked down the street, we walked to a bistro a couple of blocks away.

After we ordered our food, he leaned his arms on the table and said, “Okay, so tell me what’s going on. I’d heard you were dating that guy who owns your building. Is he why Barbie got a crew cut?”

Sighing, I nodded. “Not just dating, Eddie. I fell hopelessly in love with him—and his little girl.” My heart clenched. “And I miss them.”

“Miss?” His eyes widened. “You broke up?”

“Not exactly.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Sounds complicated.”

“You have no idea.”

“Do I need to go kick his ass?”

“It’s not his ass I want to kick,” I answered.

“What’s going on? Talk to me.”