To:
[email protected]
From:
[email protected]
Subject: Thank you. Again.
Collin, thank you for bringing my book back, and for dinner last night. I’m sorry the check ripped in half when I grabbed it, trying to split the bill with you. If I’d known you had the world’s strongest vise grip, I wouldn’t have bothered. Tabitha
To:
[email protected]
From:
[email protected]
Subject: You’re welcome. Again.
Tabitha, don’t worry about it. I’m sure the waiter enjoyed taping the whole thing back together after we left. Know what he probably enjoyed even more? Seeing you slap my hand away when I tried helping you out of the booth. The expression on his face was priceless.
CK
To:
[email protected]
From:
[email protected]
Subject: Helped me out of the booth?
I think you’re remembering it wrong. You weren’t trying to HELP me out of the booth. You were trying to touch my ass—the SAME ass you called BONY only two weeks prior. Now what do you have to say for yourself? Tabitha
To:
[email protected]
From:
[email protected]
Subject: Your ass?
I’ll admit, I was hasty in my judgment of your ASSets. Your rear is in no way bony. Especially in those black yoga pants you had on last night. I realize it was your attempt to appear dowdy and less attractive, but you failed miserably. Those pants did nothing but showcase your second best feature.
CK
Collin: You’re adorable when you’re nervous.
Tabitha: What are you talking about? When was I nervous?
Collin: I’m thinking about dinner the other night, when I came back from the bathroom. When you tried to mask your laugh. You shouldn’t have covered it up.
Tabitha: I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.
Collin: What things?
Tabitha: Charming things that make me question my resolve.
Collin: You’re thinking way too much. Why can’t you just act like a big girl and do what you want? Or better yet, act like a guy and straight up don’t give a shit.
Tabitha: Because you’re Greyson’s brother.
Collin: What the hell does that have to do with anything? I’m a grown man. I started living for myself years ago.
Tabitha: Do I have to spell it out for you????
Collin: Yes. And while you’re at it, spell out a few naughty words too. I know you know lots of those.
Tabitha: Knock it off. I am not sexting you.
Collin: That’s disappointing. For a sex book author, you’re kind of a prude.
“So you think he’s into you?” my best friend Daphne asks, propping the popcorn bucket on her legs and balancing it when she reaches to grab her soda off the sofa table.
Tonight is movie night at her place, and I grab the remote for the Blu-ray player, pointing it at the big screen hanging on her living room wall. Skillfully, I click through the menu, find Netflix, and choose How I Met Your Mother. (Does anyone besides me still watch this show?)
“Definitely. We literally argued about why it’s a bad idea to date.”
“I don’t understand how the two of you ended up having dinner together in the first place. Didn’t you say you just bumped into him at Target? How’d you end up at Finches Tap? I don’t get it.”
So here’s the thing. I haven’t exactly told any of my friends about the books, either. Especially not Daphne. Don’t get me wrong—I love her to death, and we’ve been friends almost our entire lives, but she wouldn’t be able to keep this secret to save her soul. She’d be way too proud and want to tell the entire world!
Daphne is an incredible, loyal friend—but I know eventually she’d spill the beans, and I need my secret to stay hidden.
I hate the lying, but I do it anyway. “Greyson left a textbook at Collin’s new condo during his housewarming party, and we met so he could give it to me. Cal’s coming home tonight and he’s swinging by my place on his way back.”
Daphne nods, popping a kernel into her mouth.
In front of me, my cell phone—set on vibrate—begins a jaunty little dance across the wooden coffee table, the buzzing sound oddly shrill in my friend’s tiny apartment. The LED lights up.
Collin Keller’s name flashes across the screen.
Holy. Moly.
I stare at it, stunned. Why is he calling me? Why. Is. He. Calling. Me?
Popcorn spills onto the carpet when my best friend dives off the couch like a rocket, snatching my phone. “Shitballs, is that him? He’s calling! No one makes phone calls anymore!” Her hands fly out to stop me from grabbing the phone, but then she tosses it at my chest. I barely catch it, fumbling as Daphne continues shouting at me. “Don’t answer it. Wait, answer it! Hurry!”
I smack her hand away. “Shh, would you be quiet!” Laughing, I answer the phone.
“Hello?”
I hear heavy breathing, followed by a tentative, “Tabitha? Hi. It’s Collin. Uh, Collin Keller.”
I point to the phone, mouthing, Oh my god! It’s him! to Daphne, who’s now bouncing up and down on the couch like a child, popcorn spilling everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean everywhere—the cushions, the carpet, the table—all littered with fluffy, buttery kernels.
What a flipping mess.
Daphne bounces and looks exactly how I feel—like a teenager, bubbly and giddy and ridiculous.
“I know who this is, you goof.” I smack a palm to my forehead. Goof? Ugh. Unsexiest word ever. Daphne titters and tosses a kernel of popcorn into her open mouth, sitting back on the couch and watching me like a television show.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Surprisingly, he sounds self-conscious.
I glance down at my gray sweatpants, maroon Ivy sweatshirt, and polka-dot fuzzy socks. “Uh, no. It’s fine. You caught me just as I was about to climb into a bubble bath.”
Daphne raises her eyebrows and snorts. What? I shrug. I’m just giving him a visual of me climbing into the tub. Naked. Everybody knows that’s basic How To Drive a Guy Wild 101: Give him a visual.
“Really?” Is it just my imagination, or did his voice just crack a little?
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’ll just take the phone in the tub.” Daphne rolls her green eyes towards the ceiling then makes the universal you’re insane gesture with her hands.
“What are you doing the rest of the night?”
“Um, I’ll probably have a glass of wine and sit out on the deck with my laptop.” Now my best friend is shaking her head back and forth at me, clearly disgusted. I’m sorry! I mouth, while pantomiming, I can’t tell him I’m chilling in sweatpants!
She sticks her tongue out, sitting cross-legged on the couch. I find my manners and ask him about himself. “What about you? What are you up to?”
Collin thinks about it for a second, static filling the silence. “Not much. There’s a How I Met Your Mother marathon on that I’ll probably watch.”
I freaking love that show.
“You do?”
Shit, did I say that out loud? “Yes. Love, love, love.”
“Say love one more freaking time,” Daphne whispers. I swat my arm towards her. Shut up, Daph!
“Do you…” Collin clears his throat. “Wanna come over and watch it with me? You can sit on one side of the sofa and I’ll sit on the other. I’ll even let you put your stinky feet on my new coffee table.”
Ugh, he is so sweet. I make an aw face at Daphne.
“I’d love to, but I really need to stay in tonight.” I glance over at my best friend, who’s watching me intently. Lowering my voice, I walk towards the kitchen, away from her intense eavesdropping. Peering over my shoulder, I check to make sure she’s not listening. “Um, remember I told you I started a second book? I should probably get some of that done since I’m on a roll lately.”
“Ah, because I’m your muse.” He says it so confidently, like he knows. Damn him. “Bring your laptop over and I’ll let you follow me around, observing me in my wild habitat.”
I laugh softly, biting my bottom lip to stop the grin spreading across my face. “Collin Keller, you’re becoming a real pain in my backside.”
He hums through the phone. “You’re a breath of fresh air. With a lovely backside.”
I shiver. “Collin, don’t make this hard.”
“Um…” His low hum trails off suggestively. “Too late.”
“Oh my god. No.”
“Come on, Tabitha, admit it—your mind went there, too.”
His voice when he says my name, though… Ugh. I love it. I can’t resist flirting with him just a little, and if this phone had a cord I’d be twirling it around my finger. “Yours went there first. Besides, it’s a hazard of the trade. I can’t help playing out scenes in my head.”
His laughter is filled with humor. “Just admit it; you have a filthy mind.”
“Filthy? That might be a bit of a stretch. I prefer to call it imaginative.”
“That brings me to the actual reason I’m calling. Let me take you and your imagination out on one date.” He’s quiet. “Just one.”
Daphne is perched on the edge of the couch, spellbound, mouth agape. I point to the phone, mouthing, He just asked me out! Then I shoo her to be quiet when she loudly hisses, “You freaking better say yes!”