I have a choice to make as my fingers hover over the screen. I can keep things light. I can listen to the guy waving the flag and maintain my speed. We can just be a boss and employee talking, friend to friend, outside of work.
Or I can take a leap. One I probably shouldn’t take. But the cautious part of me is waving a warning flag on the side of the track, telling me to slow down. I’m ignoring him. He’s such a buzzkill. I’d rather shift into a higher gear and flatten the gas pedal down to the floor.
I already asked her if she had a boyfriend. What’s a few steps more?
Gavin: Maybe you should turn the tables on your boss.
I bite my lip, waiting for her reply, watching the screen in anticipation.
Zoey: ... okay. How do you propose I do this?
Exactly the opening I was hoping for.
Gavin: You should be demanding. Demand that he go with you to your birthday.
Gavin: To keep you from being the third wheel.
I should have stopped with the first text. I’m no Thayden, having exactly the right words at the right time, delivered in just the right way.
But I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not. I fell into that with Eleanor, trying to mold myself into the man she wanted me to be. I didn’t even realize how much, not until it was over. When I looked around at the wreckage that was my life, I didn’t recognize it. Or myself.
Zoey: You think my boss would make that kind of sacrifice?
Gavin: Doesn't sound like a sacrifice from where I’m sitting.
Zoey: Spending time on a birthday double date with me and my brother and his girlfriend?
Gavin: I don’t know about your demanding boss, but that sounds good to me.
Zoey: Shouldn’t my boss have better things to do? A girlfriend to hang out with?
I consider doing a victory lap around my bedroom. Now Zoey is the one fishing for info on me.
Gavin: I have it under good authority that your boss is single.
Gavin: VERY single.
I can almost hear Thayden’s groan in my head. He would rip the phone right out of my hands and put me into lockdown for being so ridiculous. Especially if he knew that in my head, I heard that in James Bond’s voice.
I’m single.
Very single.
Zoey: Interesting. I could have sworn he made weekend plans with someone today and said I love you.
Ahh. So much makes sense now. She overheard my conversation with my mother and thought I was talking to a girlfriend.
Zoey was jealous.
I have the Cheshire Cat of smiles on my face now.
Gavin: Your boss could have been talking to his mother.
Gavin: (And yes, he loves her and is planning to visit her this weekend. )
She starts to type something and stops. Starts and stops. I’m not sure whether those little dots and the phrase Zoey is typing is a blessing or a curse. It makes me want to climb out of my skin while I wait.
Zoey: That’s sweet.
Is sweet a good thing or a bad thing? I thought women liked it when guys were kind to their mothers. Or maybe that makes me a mama’s boy? I for sure don’t want her thinking that.
Gavin: So, tomorrow night? You want a fourth wheel? Asking for a friend.
The pause before she texts me again feels like a century. Has the clock ticking in the kitchen slowed? Am I being sucked into some space-time continuum?
My phone buzzes, and when I glance down, my heart doesn’t just skip a beat but skips into the next city over.
Zoey: I guess I could consider taking my boss. Though it might be a conflict of interest.
Gavin: There’s no conflict here. Only interest.
I don’t want Zoey to feel pressured to respond, especially considering I just lit any semblance of professional boundaries up in flames, so I quickly text again. One turns to two, and I hate to give this up, but I do need to sleep.
Gavin: I better get to sleep if I want to have any chance at beating you tomorrow.
Zoey: Sleep or no sleep, you have no chance at beating me.
Gavin: Is that a challenge?
Zoey: Just a fact.
Gavin: Guess we’ll see tomorrow. Goodnight! And happy early birthday, Zoey.
Zoey: Thanks! Goodnight, Gavin.
Chapter Six
Zoey
“Knock, knock!”
I’m used to my privacy constantly being invaded sharing a house with four of my best friends. But as Sam ducks inside my room, I shove my phone under my thigh, like I’ve been caught doing something