Texts with Ian

What are you and your brother doing right now?

The Portlandiest things I could think of.

Oh?

Drinking Stumptown coffee while eating maple bacon bars from VooDoo Doughnuts and sitting in a kayak on the Willamette.

Got it.

Something wrong, Aust3n?

Nope. 

Sure? Are you weirded out by me and Boss hanging out right now while I’m texting you?

A little.

But we’re all friends.

Right. Friends.

Aren’t we friends, Aust3n?

I took a deep breath and tapped into my phone: I don’t know. 

He didn’t type anything for a few minutes. Then: Do you want us to be more than friends?

I don’t know.

I live 150 miles away from you.

I know.

And you broke up with me. And dated my brother.

I know. I don’t know if I quite get why you even want to be friends with me, honestly.

Isn’t it obvious?

Uhh…no.

Because, Aust3n.

?

Did you know that despite the awkwardness of Boss and I kissing the same girl, we both still can’t stop talking about you?

You can’t?

It’s weird, I’ll admit.

But you and your brother are…OK?

You’re not going to drive a wedge between us, if that’s what you’re worried about.

I think Boss might hate me.

Trust me, he doesn’t hate you.

Oh?

That’s all I’m allowed to say. He’s glaring at me.

He knows what you’re typing?

Yeah.

And he wants us to be friends?

Definitely.

And he still wants to be friends with me?

Mmmhmmm.

OK, then. I guess.

Aust3n?

Yeah?

Could I come visit you next weekend?

…as…friends?

Yes. Definitely.

And stay at my place, you mean?

Only if it’s alright with you. I can stay with Boss, but I’d rather hang out with you.

Oh.

Aust3n? Is it OK? Or not OK? You’re allowed to say no.

OK. I don’t know. Would it be weird if I asked Boss?

No.

No it wouldn’t be weird? Or no, this whole thing is weird?

This whole thing is weird, but that makes sense.

I think…I think I have to talk to Boss first. OK?

He’s not your boyfriend.

Trust me, I know. But he seems to hate me.

He doesn’t hate you, Aust3n.

OK.

OK. Talk to Boss. Get back to me.

 

He didn’t type anything else, and neither did I. And if we’re just friends, why do I feel like I just got into a big argument with my boyfriend?

Back at the Office

I hadn’t talked to Boss since I’d come back to Portland. We’d been studiously ignoring each other since that last kiss. When he stomped by my cubicle in a mood and asked me to talk with him in his office, I nervously bit my lip thinking it would be about Ian or us or that last kiss. I really had to stop replaying it in my head over and over and over again.

“Um, hi,” I said, closing the door behind me. Boss was pacing in front of his desk like he had too much nervous energy.

He didn’t look at me when he said, “I need you to take over for a week.”

I stood there a full minute trying to parse his words, but failed. “Take over…what?”

He stopped then and looked at me and he started to smile, but it was like he thought better of it and stopped himself. He resumed his grumpy look and said, “The office.”

“What?” I said. “No! I can’t do that! Definitely not!”

“I’m going on vacation. I need someone to do my job for a few days.”

“What about Sandy? Or Mark? Or…” I trailed off trying to think of everyone in the office more responsible than me.

“Listen, if you were sitting at my desk and looking at the sales numbers, the times people call in sick, the times someone in the office offers to do a menial job that’s below them…” He looked away from me again as he said, “The most responsible person is you. This isn’t a personal decision. It’s a business one.”

“OK,” I said softly, not knowing what else to say. Obviously he’d made up his mind.

“I’m leaving this afternoon for Portland.”

“Portland? You’re–”

He cut me off and said, “I’m going to visit my brother.” He said, “my brother,” like we were strangers. This was worse than before we’d ever kissed. At least we were friends then. Obviously Boss didn’t think our friendship was worth salvaging. He said, “I’ll send out an email telling everyone to come to you with issues and I’ll forward you a few files.”

Then Boss stared at me like he was waiting for me to leave. “OK, thanks,” I said, and I left, closing the door behind me. I felt like crying, but I wasn’t sure if it was because I was going to be in charge of the office for a few days, or because Boss hated my guts. I didn’t care what Boss thought, did I? My stomach turned at the thought. I guess I still did.

My phone pinged when I got back to my desk. Ian wrote, “Literally just saw a store with birds on everything,” and I smiled back. At least Ian could make me smile, I reasoned, but I still felt the misery radiating toward my limbs.

“What have I done?” I muttered to no one, and when I looked up, I saw that Boss was passing behind my cubicle. He’d heard me and stopped. He looked like he was going to say something, but then he closed his mouth, furrowed his brow, turned around and left. He probably was thinking of an insult to hurl my way.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to him hating me.

Portland, Part Three

“So that’s what Dominique meant about the trashy women, huh?” Ian had just finished telling me about Jen, and about every relationship he’d had back through high school to explain how he met Jen. There were a lot of them. I took a deep breath and sipped my now-cold coffee. It tasted terrible, but I needed to do something to stop my emotions from exploding into a million pieces. I couldn’t believe Ian had such a past and I never knew.

He looked at me with an apology in his eyes. “I’m just not very good at relationships ever since. That’s all.”

“It’s understandable,” I said. Poor Ian. Poor Boss. I thought getting in a car accident was a bad fate. I couldn’t imagine having my mom die when I was a teenager. ”That’s alright. I’m not exactly great at them either,” I said.

“I don’t know. You seemed to do well with us.” Was he insane? I was always closed off. I tried to wait for a laugh or a smile to see if he was joking, but his face remained serious.

I shook my head and looked up at him. “I didn’t tell you about my driving, and you didn’t tell me about what happened to your mom, and about all your…er, female friends. Why is that?”

“I just don’t like talking about it. With anyone.” He turned his head to look out the window and started nervously drumming his fingers against the table. I knew this wasn’t true. I knew he talked about it with Jen, and that’s why they were friends. That’s why she looked like a mother bear protecting her cub when she left me with Ian at the cafe. She wasn’t trying to make me jealous. She didn’t care what I thought; she was worried about Ian.

I was lost in thought thinking about teenage Ian and teenage Boss sitting in a hospital waiting room and I didn’t realize I was quiet. I saw Ian staring at me nervously. “So…are you going to tell me about driving?” he whispered.

I stared at my fingers and said, “Sure.” Then I went into the details of the accident, of Eliot almost dying when he was four, of my parents totally and completely shattered faces when they realized I was the only one to blame, and how I couldn’t possibly drive after that.

“Oh,” he said. He reached over the table again to grab my hand. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?” It was ridiculous that he was comforting me when he had been through something ten times worse.

I nodded to him. “I know.” I was used to acquiescing to this feeling of helplessness when I talked about the car accident. My hand lifted up to his face and the back of my hand felt his stubble on his cheek, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. “We need to be friends again, alright? I don’t think I can not be friends with you now that I understand so much more.”

“I feel the same way,” I said, suddenly feeling hopeful. I risked looking at his face and he was smiling at me with sad eyes, his eyebrows pulled together, and I knew then that everything would be alright with us, one day soon.

Portland, Part Two

“Hi, I’m Jen,” she smiled at me. “My parents were really original in the naming department,” she added as she stood by Ian’s side and he laughed at her joke. She stuck out her hand and I stared at it a minute before taking it, shaking it and saying, “Aust3n.”

“Oh, I know! Ian went on and on about you. He’s your biggest fan!” Jen said, sitting down in one of the two chairs.

“I’ll, uh, grab another chair,” Ian said, darting across the cafe toward an empty table in the corner.

“So, how do you know Ian?” I asked her.

“We’re starting the same music ed program in the fall, and so we met up when he moved to Portland.”

“Oh, cool,” I said, trying to hide all my efforts to want to know if Ian was sleeping with her. Otherwise, why would he bring her? We were supposed to be talking about serious things, and here he brought an obstacle course to our conversation.

Ian returned with a third chair and sat down, and that’s when I realized I was still standing, also. I sunk into the chair behind me and smiled back at Ian.

“So,” he said.

“So,” I muttered.

“Anyone want a drink?” Ian asked as he hopped up again.

“Nothing for me!” Jen looked up at Ian, all warm smiles and beautiful straight teeth. Ian looked at me and I said, “Drip? Black.” He nodded and left, leaving me to have awkward conversation with his new…girlfriend? best friend?

I studied Jen for a minute. She had a tall, lean body like a model or a dancer, and she didn’t wear any makeup. Her curls were knotted up and her clothes were wrinkled, but she was still unfairly gorgeous. I wondered if she was so comfortable with Ian that she didn’t need to impress him. I looked down at my own pink striped t-shirt and thought of my three coats of mascara and sighed at my efforts that failed before he even saw me.

I took a deep breath and remembered that this was the New Me, the one who was brave and honest and straightforward, who went to therapy, who asked questions. I looked straight at Jen and said, “So, how long have you two been dating?” I didn’t want to use that polite of a term, but I also didn’t want to unleash ALL of the New Me on poor skinny Jen.

Jen nervously shifted in her seat and said, “Oh, we’re not dating. We could never…I mean, you know he’s still hung up on you, right?”

I glanced back at Ian, who was tapping his fingers on the counter nervously as he waited for our drinks. “I don’t think so, Jen,” I said, looking back at her again.

“Trust me,” she breathed, and her eyes shifted. I wondered if she was thinking about him the way I was thinking about him.

I tilted my head and said, “Why would he bring a girl to meet me if he wanted to get back together with me?”

“Because,” she said, letting out a small breath. “Because. To make you jealous. I was going to leave in a minute.” She added, “It was my idea, not his.”

“OK,” I said, not knowing what else to say. Ian returned and gave me a too-big and very uncomfortable smile, and right then Jen stood up and said, “Well, I’m off!” She leaned over and gave Ian a hug, a really friendly hug, and then tapped the table and said, “Nice to meet you, Aust3n.”

“You too, Jen,” I lied. I saw Ian smile at her until she disappeared down the sidewalk, and as he was going to open his mouth, I said, “I kissed your brother.” Who was trying to make who jealous now?

He clamped his mouth shut. Then he said, “Oh.”

“We went on a few dates. I thought you should know. It was nothing,” I lied again. The feeling of Boss’s hand on my back returned to my body and I tensed involuntarily. I glanced up at Ian, hoping he hadn’t noticed the weirdness, but he was just staring at his coffee.

“So, you don’t want to get back together? You…came here to ask my permission to date my brother?” he asked more to the table than to me.

“No,” I said in a quiet tone. “I don’t think we should get back together.” I didn’t know I’d made this decision. “But I don’t want to date your brother either. OK?”

He looked up and said, “Really?”

I nodded. Then I added with as much sincerity as I could muster, “Ian, I really miss you. You were my best friend for a little time there. I’m a little heartbroken now.”

“Over our friendship,” he said, enunciating each word.

“Over our friendship,” I repeated.

“But you’re not going to date my brother.”

“Or anyone else, really,” I said.

“Oh?”

“I think I need some time to figure things out. I don’t think I’d make a very good…anything.”

“So, you want to…what?”

“I want to be honest with you. I want to be friends. And then I want to see if we can be more. I mean, if you want.” I couldn’t look at him. All this honesty was killing me. I’d never been so forthright with a man, not even James.

“That sounds good,” he said slowly.

“Good,” I said, filling with relief. I slumped back in my chair a little, suddenly very tired. Then I added, “But…you can date other people if you want.” Why did I say that? WHY?

“No,” he shook his head. “Let’s just see.”

I couldn’t help the buzzing that went through my entire body at his words. I shouldn’t have been excited for such a small concession, but I was. It was immediately dampened when he said, “But you were going to tell me about why you don’t drive.”

“Right,” I said, realizing my happiness was likely going to disappear any second. “First, tell me what’s going on with you and Jen.”

He shifted in his seat before looking at her empty chair and said, “OK. But, Aust3n, if we’re really friends, you won’t care, will you?”

“I want to know,” I said. “I don’t know how I’ll feel.”

“It’s a long story,” Ian said. “Like, really long.” I just looked at his face, trying to figure out how a girl he just met added up to a long story, but I decided not to say anything else, and then he started telling me, and almost immediately I felt sick.

Portland, Part One

“I cannot believe you stopped kissing him!” Molly was screaming to mein the backseat where I was barricaded with hands covering my face and my iPod blasting at coal-miner-loud-levels as she barreled down I-5.

Molly is a scary driver, so scary that most of the time I grab the handles on the side of the car above the window until my knuckles turn white or I pass out, whichever comes first. Sarah is fond of calling those Molly’s “Oh Shit!” bars, because that’s what we’re all thinking when she drives.

“I thought you were all about me and Ian getting back together!” I yelled back, and then turned down my music.

“Well, I like Ian, but that kissing sounded really hot,” she said. Then she fanned herself.

Sarah turned around and said, “I think Molly’s pregnancy hormones are making her extra horny.” Sarah then turned to Molly and said, ”It’s not good for decision-making, Molly. You have to get back together with Chris.”

“Whatever. You have Ben. You don’t understand,” Molly huffed as she failed to drive in a straight line down the highway. I covered my eyes again.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to do anything until I talk with Ian,” I told them both.

“So you’re going to ask his blessing to date Boss?” Sarah asked.

I shrugged at her. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to Ian. I didn’t know if I wanted to date Boss, or if I wanted Ian, or if it even mattered. Maybe it was too late for him.

After we got to the hotel and I had a restorative panic attack in the bathroom, I wore my best jeans and a new light pink striped scoop neck tee, and then put on just enough makeup to appear as though I wasn’t wearing any. I was going for the “I’m not trying at all but I’m just absolutely perfect” look. I stared at myself in the mirror and puffed out my cheeks because I had failed. I was definitely trying too hard to impress Ian. But for what reason?

Molly and Sarah walked me down to the cafe near Powell’s where I was meeting Ian, and then left in a hurry to pretend not to spy on me.

When Ian came in the door, I looked up, and then I stood up. I’m pretty sure my heart stopped beating. He looked so different.

“Hi,” I squeaked.

“Hi,” he smiled back at me.

“I like your hair.” I wanted to run my fingers through it. His long shaggy curls were cropped so short that his receding hairline showed. his beard was gone, and so were his glasses. If I hadn’t studied his face for hours, I wouldn’t even recognize him.

“Thanks. It’s my summer hair,” he said.

“Your summer hair?”

“Yeah, some are here, some are there. I now openly admit to my balding tendencies.”

I laughed and then said, “You’re hardly bald.” Really, Ian had the thickest, silkiest hair, and I wanted to run my hands through it, even though I knew I’d lost that right.

“Sure.” He smiled back at me and then I felt an uncomfortable shift. I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t know what to do next. Should I sit down? Should I order him a drink? Before I could say anything, he said, “Do you mind if my friend joins us?”

And then she walked in the door. She was tall and thin and dressed a lot like Ian in a plaid shirt and tight jeans and Toms. She had on Ian’s big, dorky, hipster glasses, which made her seem ultra-cool. Her hair was in a messy top knot and her blonde curls fell everywhere. She was perfect. I hated her immediately.

“No problem,” I said in an octave too high. But this was a really big problem.

 

The Last Kiss?

Boss was stroking the dip in my spine with just his thumb as he kissed me. I felt my skin tingle and warm right at the base of my dress, and the tingles moved up, then down, then spread over my body. I deepened the kiss with Boss for a minute, not thinking about anything except all the feelings pulsing through me. I pushed him back and he stumbled backward a bit, then kissed me deeper.

His hand moved from my back to my leg. To my dress. To underneath my dress. And that’s when I steeled up every single ounce of self-control left in me, as most of it had drizzled away underneath Boss’s thumb. I broke away and said, “Don’t.”

“What?” He looked dazed.

“I…” Was I really going to be honest with him about this?

He put his hand on my cheek and asked very softly, “What is it?”

I knew there were so many things that were wrong between me and Ian because I wasn’t honest. I wanted to fix it and not be so scared that I wasn’t good enough.

“I…I want to talk to Ian. I need to tell him some things.”

Like how I’m still in love with him and yet I was kissing his brother. How could that be? I thought love was supposed to sweep me off my feet. Maybe I wasn’t in love with Ian after all. Or maybe I wasn’t good enough for Ian. Or Boss for that matter. He was staring at me waiting for me to say more, or possibly just start kissing him again. I felt a pull toward him and wanted to lean into him, but I didn’t.

Because I probably wasn’t good enough for either of them. But there was more than just that.

“Plus, there are other problems,” I said in a whisper.

He dropped his hand and took a step back. “Problems?”

I nodded and he said, “Are you going to elaborate?”

Was I really supposed to tell him that even though I felt a zing of electricity every single time he looked at me, I didn’t want to sleep with him yet? Or possibly ever? Would it even matter if I saw Ian and he miraculously forgave me for all of my dozens of mistakes?

“No,” I said. “Not until I talk to Ian.”

“I guess I should talk to him, too,” Boss said, letting out a slow, deep breath.

“I’m seeing him in Portland this weekend. Please let me do it first?”

“And then?” he asked with his eyebrows quirked upward.

“Who knows,” I said, but I knew that this was likely the last time I was ever going to kiss Boss, that with a clear head, he was going to change his mind about me for so many reasons. The thought twisted me up inside, and I closed the gap between us, put my hand on his collarbone, and tilted my head up to kiss him again.

 

A Bad Idea

I opened the door immediately to wait for Boss to come up the stairs, but he was already there, standing on the other side of the threshold. My mouth dropped open in surprise and I said, “Oh! How did you get here already?”

He wrinkled his eyebrows together and I saw his mouth pucker. “Were you crying?” he asked.

I touched my face and it was still wet from sobbing over Ian’s text. “Um,” I said. I wasn’t going to divulge that I was crying over his brother. “I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”

He looked me up and down, and took in my dress and my heels and jewelry. He stared for a long minute and then said, “You look really beautiful.”

“I do?” I said with some surprise in my voice. No one, not even Ian, told me I was beautiful. I looked down at myself and decided I was not, in fact, beautiful, but that Boss was being really polite.

“Can I come in?” Boss asked, and tentatively stepped forward.

“Sure,” I said, and moved aside. But why did he want to come in?

“So, what’s wrong?” he said after I closed the door.

“Um,” I said again. “It’s nothing. I’m just a little under the weather.”

“Oh,” he said. Then, “I don’t believe you. I think maybe you’re–” He stopped and shook his head. “Are you hungry? Do you want some take-out? There’s a good Thai restaurant I walked past. Do you like Pad See Ew?”

What was he going to say about me? Did it matter? I decided it didn’t, and even though he looked absolutely the best I have ever seen a man look, and even though he was standing one foot away from me and I could feel my body getting warmer just by his proximity, and even though he was being polite and called me beautiful, that this was a bad, bad idea. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry. I think I just need to get some rest.”

“OK,” he said. “That means you’re asking me to leave?”

I nodded and looked down. I couldn’t look him in the face. I took a deep breath and decided that if I was going to be honest with Ian, I should be honest with Boss. It was good practice. I said more to my feet than to him, “We work together. I dated your brother. You just broke up with Dominique. This isn’t a good idea.” I kept my eyes fixed on my sandals and wished I was in a different room, or a different universe. I’d never been so open with a man, and I’d never felt so mortified.

I heard him exhale and he said, “You’re absolutely right. This is a bad idea.” Then I felt his hands on my shoulders, and then one tipping my chin up so I was looking at him. The second our eyes made contact I averted them again, because he was looking at me with a perplexing look. The feel of his hands on me was making me shiver. “I really like you, though, Aust3n. What should I do about that?”

And that was it. He turned my face back to him, leaned in and kissed me, and suddenly I was kissing him, too, my hands in his very soft hair. His hand was on my back, his thumb stroking my spine while he kissed me and I was very, very definitely not thinking that this was a bad idea.

 

I Knew It Wasn’t A Dream Because It’s Just Too Messed Up

I was ten minutes away from leaving for my date with Boss when he answered.

I was wearing dark blue strappy sandals, my new frilly yellow halter dress that exposed more of my back (and my front) than I liked, but which Molly and Sarah both insisted I wear anyway, and some small dangly earrings with blue stones. I left my hair down in soft waves around my shoulders, since I was walking to the restaurant.

I never left my hair down, and I felt a little exposed. At that moment I considered tying it back, putting on my bike helmet and biking over to meet Boss instead, but I knew Boss must have picked a restaurant near me so I wouldn’t have to. So my eyes wandered away from my helmet.

But when I picked up my phone to drop it in my purse, I saw I had a new text from Ian and I swear my heart reflexively started beating at three times its normal rate. I was a little afraid I was going to leave giant sweat stains on my new dress and be a sobbing wreck before I left the apartment. His text said, “I don’t think I’m up for meeting you in Portland.”

I wrote him back immediately, even though my hands were trembling, even though my brain filter wasn’t working at that moment. “Please? I want to see you. I’m very sorry.”

My phone pinged again. “Sorry for what?”

“For everything. For not talking about things.”

“What things?”

For going out with your brother even though I think about you about ten times every hour. For breaking up with you when I didn’t really want to. For not calling sooner. For being so afraid. But the list was too long, and I was supposed to leave for my date. I wrote, “For not telling you about why I don’t like to drive.”

My phone pinged back one word. “Oh.”

That was it? That was all he was going to say? Was that the last word I would ever see from him, addressed to me. I felt a nausea growing in my stomach and all I wanted to do was climb under my covers and sob at that very second, but instead, with my very poor manners, I texted Boss. “Not feeling well. Rain check?”

And again my phone pinged. It wasn’t Ian. It was Boss. He wrote, “Can I come over?”

Oh god. This time I put my phone down, flipped off my sandals and crawled into bed. This was hell. I was messing everything up with everyone. Why couldn’t I listen to my instincts and be a nun, or maybe that crazy cardigan-n-cats lady? That was something I could do. This? Dating someone like Boss, being open with someone like Ian? These are things I couldn’t do.

My phone pinged again and I reached out for it on the bed spread and looked at it.

Ian wrote, “I miss you.” Then a minute later he wrote, “OK. Are you coming to Portland this weekend?”

This was the worst text of all. There was still hope. “Yes. You’ll meet me?”

“Yes.” It was just one word, but I sobbed.

Yes? 

Yes, I still didn’t muck things up? Why? Whatever the reason, I was so, so glad I abruptly canceled with Boss. For lack of having something else to hug, I hugged my little phone, then myself. Then I jumped up and down. I was crying, but I couldn’t remember feeling happier.

Then my phone pinged one more time.

Boss.

“Buzz me up. At your front door.” I let a small gasp of panic escape for being such a royal screw-up. And then I straightened my dress, and buzzed him up.

Dates and Dresses

“That was it? That was the whole date?” Molly asked me through a dressing room curtain. She came out and showed me a striped maternity top she was wearing, complete with a fake belly underneath.

“Aren’t you creeped out by the detachable belly?” I asked.

“No, I’m not. It makes sense, and stop changing the subject,” she said, looking at me like she might bite my head off. Sarah strode up behind me with a polka dot dress the size of a school bus and handed it to Molly.

“This is cute,” Sarah said. “Plus, you love polka dots.”

“Nothing this big will ever look cute on me,” Molly said into her hands. Then she groaned, closed the curtain and said, “He didn’t call you? Or kiss you?”

“No and no,” I said. “Besides being awkward in the office, I’m sure everything will be better. I’ve had this dumb crush for two years and it’s nice to let it go.” I slumped down and looked at Molly’s feet. “Besides, it’s not like it was true love or anything.”

Sarah cocked her head to one side and looked at me in this funny way. “Speaking of that, have you called Ian?”

Molly’s head poked out of the dressing room curtain and she looked at me in the same funny way as she asked, “Have you?”

I shook my head as I looked up at both of them, and I saw a look pass between them. “Maybe you could go see him. In Portland,” Molly said.

“Are you crazy? He left and moved 150 miles south just to get away from me. I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Molly. “You have no idea how much I’d like to see Chris.”

“But…but…you two broke up. You must hate him for what he did.”

“I don’t,” she said. “I’d really like to talk to him. I mean, I’m going to have to talk to him soon about the baby, but I’d really like to just talk to him, you know? Just hang out. I bet Ian feels the same way.”

“You don’t know how he sounded when we broke up,” I told her.

Suddenly Sarah looked at me and said, “What if we went on a girls weekend together to Portland? Beer, doughnuts, Powell’s, pedicures. It will be so much fun! And all you have to do is tell Ian you’re going to be in Portland and would like to stop by and say hi.”

“Why do you two want me to travel out-of-state just to say hi to some guy you didn’t even seem to like all that much?”

“Sometimes I can be an idiot,” Molly said. “Especially about boyfriends.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She means she was jealous as all get-out when you were hanging out with Ian every single night and so she hated him,” Sarah explained . I couldn’t help but notice her huge smirk directed at Molly.

“Jealous?” I turned to Molly, completely confused.

“Yes, but if you go and talk to him, maybe….maybe you two could work something out.”

I shook my head again. “I don’t think that would be good. We’re not the right fit for each other.”

Molly stepped out in her polka-dot muumuu, looking prettier than anyone with a fake belly strapped to her should look. She pulled me up and then she shook me by the shoulders until I was laughing so hard the sales clerk gave us a stern look. I quieted down and then Molly said, “You don’t think you’re ever good enough for the good things in your life. When are you going to learn that the only way to get what you want is to actually TAKE IT when it comes along?”

And just then, right as Molly was finishing up her pep talk, my phone buzzed with a new text. I took it out and glanced at it and I couldn’t help but smile.

“What is it?” Molly and Sarah asked at the same time, and before I could answer, they had taken my phone from me while I shrieked and tried to get it back.

“Stop! Stop! That’s private!” I yelled as the store clerk was now trying to unleash some serious Force lightning on us like she was Emperor Palpatine.

“Are you serious?” Sarah said, dropping the phone. She handed it back. “What are you going to do?”

“I know what you’re going to do,” Molly said in a lower voice. “You’re going to call Ian and tell him you want to see him this weekend.”

“But–but–” I started as Molly put up her hand to silence me.

“No sass!” she said while smiling. “Pregnant ladies must be obeyed! You’re also going to have to do something about this guy, because I think you were wrong. He’s got it bad for you.”

“I don’t know if I can face Boss like that again.”

“Seriously, girl, the only way you’re going to get over either of these guys is to face them.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Then I glanced at my phone again to read over Boss’s text one more time. It said, “Can I take you out to dinner tonight? I’d love to see your beautiful face again outside of work,” and I couldn’t control the happiness that was bubbling up all over me.

I texted back, “That would nice,” and was rewarded immediately with a time Boss was going to pick me up tonight with instructions to wear something semi-formal.

“Intriguing,” Sarah said over my shoulder.

“Expensive,” said Molly.  ”Maybe we should buy something while we’re at the mall?” Sarah added.

“Only after she texts Ian about next weekend,” Molly said. I looked at her and she said, “Seriously. NOW. Pregnant lady rules.”

I picked up my phone and nervously tapped out a message to Ian.

I didn’t hear back from him, so I did the only thing I could do. I went to Forever 21 and bought a frilly yellow sundress to wear on a date with his big brother.

The Date, Part Two

After an entire dinner of Boss staring at me like I was the food instead of the plate in front of him, Boss paid for the meal.

“I asked you, so I should pay,” I said as he gave the server his card.

“Don’t be silly,” he said. “That doesn’t make much sense. I know exactly how much you make.”

“I…” I sat in my seat and immediately thought about Ian. I thought about how we split our checks and how unromantic I always thought it was. But was this romantic? I stared back at Boss through the thick fog of attraction that was zipping between us and decided it was hot and sexy, but not exactly romantic. I quirked my mouth a little bit thinking about my hypocrisy.

“What?” Boss asked across the table as the server returned with his card and a pen.

“Nothing,” I shook my head.

“Are you sure?” he asked as he grabbed my hand again. He’d been holding it throughout dinner, and just the touch of our fingers was enough to make me speechless and drooling throughout large portions of the evening.

As we got up to leave, the server opened the door for us and said, “You lovebirds enjoy the evening!” I felt my face grow hot, but Boss didn’t flinch or correct him. He just nodded politely and waited for me to go through.

It wasn’t until I got to my bicycle that Boss said, “What are you doing?”

“Um, unlocking my bike?” I don’t know why I asked it as a question, except that Boss totally unnerved me with his proximity and his utter sexiness.

He rubbed his cheek stubble and I wanted very much to put my hand up to his face and touch it, but I kept my hands on my bike. ”You’re not seriously going to ride that right now, are you? I’ll drive you,” he said with a gruffness in his voice that wasn’t there before.

I looked at him a minute and exhaled. I’d had this same argument with Ian, but he wasn’t quite so…well…bossy. Boss-y. I closed my eyes for a second and opened them with new resolve. “Yes, I ride it everywhere, Boss. And besides, if you drop me off, then how will I get to work in the morning?”

He raised his eyebrows and said, “Well, I thought we could go over to my place for a drink.”

I stared at him letting what “a drink” meant to him, about how he’d been sexing me up all evening, and then I felt immediately cheap and easy and slutty and heartbroken for Ian all over again. So this is what this was. This is why he agreed to go out with me. Maybe he thought Ian was just another guy in a string of guys for me? Maybe he didn’t think anything about me at all. Any guy who was serious about Dominique would of course think nothing of someone like me.

I looked at him a last time and said, “No, it’s fine. Thank you for dinner. It was lovely,” with my mouth a tight line. I strapped on my helmet and turned away from him. When I was on my bike, making sure I didn’t flash anyone with my skirt, I said curtly, “Goodnight. See you tomorrow,” and I rode off.

I heard him call my name once, and when I was far enough away, I ventured a small glance back. He was leaning against his car and I could swear he was smiling at me. But why?