A yawn sneaks up on me, and I try to stifle it, but Collin notices. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says. I make an exasperated face, and his eyes widen a second before he laughs a full-blown laugh. “You know what I mean. I’m a gentleman.”
“Sure you are.”
“Andyouare unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”
While I’d like to take that as a compliment, it mostly serves as a sobering reminder that I’m all over the place. I used to think I had my act together. Before Nelson. Now, I don’t know who I really am. Who I really can be. At least outside my job.
We say our goodbyes to Tim and drive back to Collin’s house. The silence hanging between us is much less hostile than it was on the way here. Although, there are still awful love songs blaring from every radio station Collin scans to.
Sorry, Elvis, but I actuallycanhelp falling in love. With you. And with every other man, for that matter.
“I’ll grab your door,” Collin says when he pulls into the driveway, but I’m already getting out. I don’t need chivalrous Collin to showhimself and make me feel like I’m worthy of that sort of care or attention. It’s a slippery slope from accepting it once to longing for it, and that won’t work for me. I have a plan, and it starts and ends with never lending out my heart again.
I meet him in front of his car.
“Thanks for a fun evening,” I say, tucking my bare hands into my coat pockets. I forgot my mittens up in my apartment—a rookie mistake that I’m paying for now.
“Right back atcha.” He blinks and then feels the breast pocket of his coat, retrieving a white envelope. My heart stutters.
“I almost forgot.” He holds it out. “This is for you.”
I take it, and our fingers brush. My whole arm heats in direct contradiction to the outside temperature. His hands are somehow warm. As warm as the smile he gives me. “Night, Magnolia.” He pauses and shoots me an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I mean Noli.”
I nod and grip the envelope in my hands. A strange feeling uncurls in my chest cavity. The fact that he remembered that I told him not to call me by my full name a month ago—during a fight, even—and is actively trying to honor my wishes does something to the blood coursing through me, warming it a few degrees.
If this were a real date, Collin would be leaning in and hugging me, offering to keep me warm in his embrace or with his kiss or by taking me inside his house for a night cap.
But this isn’t real. And I won’t fall into the trap of wanting it to be.
“Night, Rattler.” I turn and head for my apartment. I look over my shoulder after I unlock the service door. He’s still standing in the driveway. He gives me a smile and waves. I wave back and cut upstairs before I can think too much about…anything.
My fingers are itching by the time I get inside, and I’d love to say it was from the cold, but that would be a lie.
I shrug off my coat and plop down on the couch, ripping open the envelope.
It’s another handmade card. This time, he’s used red Sharpie—the same Sharpie I recognize from the bar top at the bowling alley. He must’ve asked Tim for some paper, making up this card while I was in the bathroom. It’s really sweet, actually. These handwritten notes have become a sort of tradition, and while I’d deny it to Collin’s face, I love that he keeps surprising me with them.
The front of this note reads:I like how you roll, Valentine.He drew bowling pins in the shape of a V at the start of ‘Valentine,’ and the O in ‘roll’ is a bowling ball. I roll my eyes at his theme, but my lips are curving upward without my brain’s permission.
I flip the card open and hold my breath as I read his message.
Noli,
Thanks for spending the night with me. Well, not the night-night, but you know what I mean. I’m thoroughly impressed with your bowling skills. And in case I haven’t said it before, you’re all-around impressive…but I still want a rematch sometime.
Sweet dreams,
C
I close my eyes and hold the card to my chest for several beats. I’m trying to quell the dueling sensations gurgling in my stomach. On the one hand, I want to kick my feet and squeal over how thoughtful this note is. On the other, I’m mad at myself for enjoying Collin’s attention.
He’s a man like all the other men in my life. Not to be counted on. Not to be trusted.
And yet…I want to trust him.
“Don’t be a fool, Noli,” I mutter to myself, schlepping off the couch and heading toward the small bathroom. I quickly wash my face and change into my pajamas before diving underneath my flannel sheets and fleece blankets.
My phone vibrates before I can set it aside. I unlock it to find a message from Rose.
