“Oh!” she says when I tell her my plans. “Um, I may be able to. I’ll have to see.”
This really throws me off. She’s all I have been able to think about since I left Magnolia Row. Did she not feel the fireworks when we kissed? Was all it in my head? Maybe I’ve already screwed things up before they even really got going. Maybe she finally realized I’m probably too old for her.
“If you have plans,” I say, “don’t feel obliged. I really enjoyed the last night we spent together. I thought you did too.”
“I did,” she says. Her voice is softer and I feel her guard come down a bit. “I do want to see you.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Yes.” This time I can hear the smile in her voice, and my muscles relax. I didn’t realize how tense I’d been until that point.
“Great! My schedule is pretty flexible, so let me know what works for you.”
“Let’s plan on Saturday night,” she says, her voice finally sounding a bit lighter.
“Sounds good. I can’t wait to see you, Micah.”
“Same,” she says, and we hang up.
I pour myself a glass of red wine, then cross my empty, sterile apartment and look out at the horizon of twinkling city lights. The city is bustling, Red Mountain is illuminated in the distance, and the streets below are crowded with people dining, drinking, and enjoying the beautiful night.
And all I want is to get in my car and drive straight to Micah.
MICAH
How have I gone from feeling like no man ever wants me to having two to choose from? It seems like a good problem to have, but it definitely is not.
On the one hand, Garrett has been super-sweet with everything going on at his work. I’ve been as supportive as possible, checking on him and making sure he’s okay. We’ve only seen each other once since the night he told me about the lawsuits. He asked me for a loan to help with his legal expenses, so I took a few thousand out of savings to help him. I didn’t tell anyone about it. Nana and my girlfriends would all have tried to talk me out of it, but it felt like the right thing to do. I’d like to think he’d do the same for me if I needed money.
Then there’s Rhodes. Perfect, sweet, doesn’t-need-me Rhodes, who is so far out of my league he may as well be on the moon. He’s been nothing but upfront with me about how much he likes me, which is so overt it almost feels fake. Is it normal for guys to be so transparent, or is this a manipulation? There has to be a catch, because there always is. If only I could figure it out.
When Rhodes and I talk on Friday night about his plans to come to Magnolia Row the following week, I agree to see him despite my head spinning. I cannot juggle two guys. I’m not that girl. Granted, neither of them are my boyfriend, but it still doesn’t feel right. It’s not fair to them, and it’s way too confusing for me.
I text my girlfriends, and Sistine agrees to meet me for a girl’s night at Cattywampus the following evening. Patsy has too much going on with her five boys, and Kendall is in Florida visiting her parents.
I walk in, and our usual table is taken by a group of guys who look like they’re twelve, but who in reality are probably well out of high school, so we sit at the bar.
Calista, the barkeep, knows us and brings our drinks without us having to tell her what we want. Since it’s October, they finally have Dracula’s Blood Orange on draft, so we each order one. Last year I raved about it so much that Calista suggested they rename it after me.
“How is Nana?” asks Sistine as we settle into our chairs.
“Slow,” I say. “She’s sleeping a lot and missing days at the store. And she doesn’t talk much. I know she doesn’t feel well.”
“Sometimes it takes old people a long time to bounce back,” she says. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s a tough old broad.”
I smile. “She is.”
“Have you talked to Rhodes?” she asks.
“Almost every day,” I say. “He’s coming next weekend, which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need advice.”
She raises her eyebrows, intrigued. “Please tell me you’re going to sleep with him.”
“What? No, that’s not what I was going to ask.”
She rolls her eyes. “From what you said about his kissing skills, I imagine he’ll cure you of your attachment to the douchebag in Montgomery.”
“Yeah. About Garrett?—"
