I felt my heart squeeze.
“Holy wow, she’s that shallow?” I asked.
“I know her, but I don’t know her very well. Maybe she has some substance to her,” Gal allowed. “Rix went through a ton of woman like they were water, but he’s stuck into you. Which suggests he has a type, and some superficial bitch is not it. So I can’t for the life of me think there was nothing to her. But when you know who she is, and you see her around town, you’ll get me. Her water bottles match her outfits, that’s all I’m saying.”
She need say no more.
I so got it.
To express that, I said, “Okay.”
“My point is, this guy is coming off that blow, which was by far not the only one he was sustaining at the time it landed. I get his twice bitten in the ass by life, a hundred times shy. But he’s down to be with you. And he’s honest with you about where he’s at. My opinion, that right there is enough to give this a go, have fun while you can, and end shit when it starts to feel like it’s gonna get messy.”
She’d lost me.
“That right there? I don’t—”
“He’s not promising you anything to the point he’s promised you, in the end, there won’t be anything but the friendship you guys will go back to,” she explained. “That’s big. Guys go in knowing that’s where they’re at, but they sure as shit don’t share that little nugget with you.”
All right.
From that comment, now I was wondering how open Gal was about things in her life.
“You just need to keep your shit sharp to make sure you protect that friendship, because it sounds like he’s going to,” she advised.
When I didn’t say anything, she went on.
But her tone was gentler when she did.
“You wanted this guy, Alex, now you have him. Don’t waste this opportunity. Hell, you should do it for every wallflower who didn’t get her shot at her secret crush. It’s almost a moral imperative.”
I smiled at that.
She caught the smile and continued, “I can tell you like being with him a lot. Give yourself that. Have fun. Get laid. Share life with somebody for a while. Just keep a good hold on those heartstrings. If they start pinging a chord that demands a duet, cut him loose.”
From Dani at the Raven, to Katie (because last night, she was totally about talking me into going for it with Rix), to Gal, the message was all the same and coming in clear.
And Gal was right, I never took risks.
Not risks like that.
And if anyone was worth taking a romantic risk on, it was Rix.
I wasn’t sure about the heartstrings thing. I liked Rix so much, I knew that well would just run deeper and deeper.
But even if people claimed it happened, no one ever actually died of heartbreak.
But before that, we’d have time.
And after it, we’d still have each other.
And just a month ago, I never even expected him to be my friend.
“I’m going to go for it,” I decided with a little clutch in my stomach and a little leap of my heart.
This time, Gal smiled. “Right then. Nail him down on when he’s invading girls’ night. I’m free every night this week but Friday.”
“Thanks, Gal,” I said.
“You bet, sister. Anytime,” she replied. “Later.”
“Later, babe.”
We rang off.
I poured myself a glass of wine and headed to the deck.
Rix would be arriving any minute. He’d told me as we’d walked together to our cars after work that he’d be there with food at six thirty.
That gave me only an hour to get home, changed, tidy up breakfast dishes, fret, then call Gal to talk me out of doing what she’d instead talked me into doing.
I wanted to be a modern girl who was at one with enjoying a man, his time, and eventually his body, with only loose strings attached.
But by the time I heard Rix’s truck growl up, park and go quiet, I was back to fretting.
When I heard him coming down the steps, I called, “I’m out on the deck.”
I had my head turned, therefore saw him round the corner of the house.
Again, he’d gone from nice but casual trousers and a button down for work to jeans and a tee, this one black with a little yellow circle over the heart that said Whiskey Row.
I watched him walk up.
To me.
On my deck.
Him.
Rix.
In all his glory.
My (not so) secret crush.
Here.
With me.
And mine.
For a time.
And suddenly…
I stopped fretting.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Hey.”
He stopped beside my chair and looked down at me.
He did this a while.
So long, it started to get freaky.
We’d been cool at work. Krista had started the day before, and she didn’t need to come into a situation with an in-your-face office romance.
And although I knew Judge knew we were “together” (and maybe now knew we were together-ish), I sensed Kevin also knew something was up.
But we didn’t make it obvious (or make it a thing at all).
Unless anyone interpreted the sexy winks Rix sent my way when he caught my eye.
Or the sexier chin juts.
Though, last night, he did kiss me by my car before we both went home.
And the same tonight, before we parted ways.
So I kinda was thinking he’d kiss me now, no audience, not on work property.
And we were together(ish).
Maybe he expected me to get up and kiss him?
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“If you’re gonna let me down, do it now, do it easy, we’ll eat, and then I’ll take off,” he said quietly.
I straightened in my rocker. “What are you talking about?”
“Your kiss was weird.”
“Sorry?”
“At the car, an hour ago, your kiss was weird. You been giving me looks all day.” He put the bag of food on a table, dropped the backpack he had draped over his shoulder to the deck, then bent to me, one hand in the back of my seat, one on the arm, our faces close. “I told you, I’d get it and I’d be down with it if you didn’t wanna do this. You can say anything to me, honey. You can talk to me about anything. Including cutting me loose.”
Was he that tuned to me?
“I’m not going to cut you loose, Rix.”
“Like I said, I’ll get it.”
“I want more,” I whispered.
He stared into my eyes, deep into them, and he did this for another long while.
Then his caramel melted, his hand went from the back of my seat to sift up into my hair from behind my ear, and I finally got his mouth.
And his tongue.
Yes, I so wanted more.
I got it.
We did not kiss.
We made out.
I had both my hands wrapped around his neck, he still only had one sifted into my hair, but he’d tangled his fingers in it, when he lifted his head.
“Tapas are gonna get cold,” he muttered to my mouth.
“Can’t have that,” I muttered back.
His gaze lifted, and for a second, clear as day, I saw stark relief mixed with lazy after-makeout heat.
Before I could fully take that in, he slid his hand out of my hair, reclaimed the food, his backpack, and I had no choice but to get up because he also claimed me by tugging me from my chair.