The Rules of Dating

: Chapter 8



The following day, I paced through the living room of Deek’s apartment. “You’re supposed to be knocking some sense into me, not encouraging this!”

I’d gone back to his place after we got ramen for dinner and decided to fill him in on my time at IKEA with Colby. I worried I was starting to weaken to the guy’s charms. Based on my last conversation with Deek about this subject, I should’ve known he would only encourage my inevitable dissent into falling for Colby.

“Why are you still so damn hesitant?” he asked. “That guy is a catch, from everything I can see. Heck, if he swung both ways, I’d tell you to go for it or else I would.”

“It’s more than one thing.”

“Like…”

“He used to be a playboy, for one. Holden said Colby was the worst out of all those guys—had something to do with a high-school girlfriend who wronged him. He was never the same after that and went wild. Total manwhore, apparently. Until Saylor. She tamed him. But probably only because he no longer had time to play the field.”

“Okay, so he has a playboy past. Like half the other men out there. Myself included. Yet…he’s apparently not like that anymore. Probably got it out of his system. So, what’s your other excuse?”

I rolled my eyes. “As we’ve discussed, he has a kid. He doesn’t even have time to focus on a relationship.”

Deek chuckled. “You realize you’re contradicting yourself, right? First the guy is a playboy, now he’s too responsible and a devoted father? God forbid!”

I sighed. My arguments were weakening pretty fast.

“You know what I think?” he asked.

I crossed my arms. “What?”

“You’re making excuses out of fear. Take away those two factors you just mentioned and think about whether you genuinely like the guy. I bet if you made a list of the pros, they would greatly outnumber the cons.”

If I thought about how Colby made me feel and my attraction to him, my feelings were undeniable. “Okay. Truth. When I’m around him, I’m happier than I’ve been in a very long time. There’s nothing not to like if I remove the child aspect and the fear about his past. The list of things I like would fill that entire paper. But I can’t just ignore the other stuff.”

Deek shrugged. “Sure, you can.”

“How can I even trust my own judgment? Look at my track record! I didn’t see any of that coming with Kaiden.”

“Sounds to me like you’re due for a good one, then. The universe is trying to shove it in your face, and you’re being too damn stubborn. Pretty soon the universe is gonna get downright pissed and give up on you.”

I rolled my eyes. Note to self: if I want someone to convince me I should steer clear of Colby, Deek is not that person. I should probably be talking to my mother about this. She’d have no problem convincing me that a guy like Colby would never be interested in a girl like me.

***

After I left Deek’s, I took the stairwell down so I had to pass by a certain someone’s apartment on the way out. My brain told me I needed to flee the premises, but apparently my feet were listening to some other part of me, because rather than do what they should’ve and continue out the door, they stopped right in front of Colby’s place.

Should I knock?

There were so many reasons knocking would be a bad idea. For one, it was on the later side. Saylor was probably sleeping, and I’d wake her up. But it would be nice to see him. To say hello. Ugh. Why couldn’t I just lift my damn hand and knock? I looked up at the ceiling and let out a long breath. Then I began to pace as I continued to debate whether to knock or leave. A woman exiting her apartment smiled at me, and I waved at her awkwardly.

It must have been about ten minutes that I loitered there like an idiot, talking to myself and continuing to pace.

Then Colby’s door opened. He scratched his head. “Billie?”

“Oh!” I feigned laughter and ignored my pounding heart. “Hey, Colby.”

He was dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie. He looked hot. But when does he not look hot?

Concern crossed his face. “Is everything okay?”

Running my hand through my hair, I exhaled. “Sure. Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, for one, my neighbor called and said there was a strange woman standing outside my door talking to herself. So I looked out the peephole, and here you were. That was several minutes ago. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever you were working through. But then it got to a point where I couldn’t help myself.” He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

My mouth opened and closed a few times. “Honestly…I was debating whether or not to knock.”

“I figured as much. But why?”

I exhaled. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t want to wake Saylor?”

“Probably not.” He smiled. “But you know what? I’m glad you’re here, and after all the time you’ve invested out here, I think you should come in.” He looked over his shoulder. “Also, you’ll be very happy to know I’m doing the most unsexyundatelike thing ever, so you won’t have to worry about things getting too wild up in here.”

As I stepped inside, I immediately noticed the mountain of laundry in the middle of the room. It was practically five-feet high, an explosion of pastel colors mixed with masculine ones, dresses mixed with collared shirts, pink towels mixed with black.

“I interrupted your laundry night. I should go…”

“Are you kidding? Best interruption ever, trust me.”

I plopped myself down next to the pile and began to fold.

He held out his hand. “Whoa. What are you doing? You don’t need to do that.”

I looked up. “I actually love folding laundry. I find it so relaxing, placing the warm material against my face, stopping to smell the fresh scent, focusing on folding it just right. It’s like sensory meditation.” I grabbed a random item and took a long whiff.

“You know that’s my underwear, right?”

I froze. Shit.

“But by all means, continue doing that. It’s hot. And relax away if you like folding and smelling. I’ll take an impromptu meditation session with you any day.”

I felt my face heat. “Anyway, they smell good.” I folded the boxer briefs and set them aside.

He laughed, joining me on the floor across from the pile.

“This is a nice change of pace. I normally put the TV on low volume to pass the time, but I’d much rather look at you.”

“How often do you do your laundry exactly, because this is…quite a lot.”

“Once a month, maybe?”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

He might have been a dad, but he was also a typical bachelor in many ways.

We sat together folding laundry for several minutes when I noticed him staring at the inside of my right forearm. While my entire left arm was an ink sleeve, I only had one tattoo on the other. It was a Victorian key.

“Does that one have special meaning?” he asked. “I noticed it’s all by itself.”

I smiled and held my arm out. “It does. My grandmother wore this key around her neck every day after my grandfather died. He was in the military, and they met while he was home on leave once. This key opened his footlocker, where he kept everything important to him. At the end of their first date, he told her he didn’t need it anymore because the most important thing he could have was right in front of him. They’d been married for fifty-one years when he died. And when my grandmother passed two years ago, we buried her with the key.”

“Wow. That sounds like something Rose would do, from Titanic.”

I laughed. “I’m surprised you know who Rose from Titanic is. But yeah, it does.”

Colby went quiet for a few minutes. He seemed lost in thought. So I tucked a pair of socks into a ball and chucked it at him. “What are you thinking about over there?”

“Nothing.”

Liar.

He smiled. “I guess I was just thinking about how the woman who is the president of the All Men Suck Club is actually a romantic at heart.”

“I am not. It’s just a tattoo.”

He caught my eyes and grinned. “Uh-huh.”

He surprised me by letting the subject drop. “Have you eaten?” he asked instead.

I placed a neatly folded pair of pants to my right. “Actually, I had dinner with Deek a couple of hours ago.”

“A couple of hours ago? Well, you must be getting a little hungry again. Let me get you a snack.”

“I’m not a three-year-old. That’s not necessary.”

“You’re a guest in my house.” He stood up. “It is necessary for me to offer you something. Want some wine?”

“No, thank you. I drank with dinner.”

Colby went to the kitchen before returning with a couple of things that made me smile.

“In these parts, there is no lack of kiddie snacks. I figured if you like Goldfish, you might like these.”

He placed a small Lunchable container in front of me, along with a box of grape juice.

“You know me so well. This is perfect, actually.” I laughed. “Don’t mind if I do.” I opened the package and placed one of the small slices of cheese atop a cracker and took a bite. “I thought maybe you were going to grab me a spinach brownie.”

He hopped back up. “I have some of those. Want one?”

I chuckled. “No. Sit. This is more than enough.”

Colby returned to the floor and watched intently as I devoured my snack, as if watching me eat was some kind of spectator sport.

“What?” I finally asked with my mouth full.

“Sorry. I like watching you—the way you lick the corner of your mouth every once in a while. Even the way you eat is unique. It’s cute.”

“Well, you haven’t watched me eat a rack of ribs. Because there is nothing cute about that.” I took a sip from the juice box.

“Note to self: figure out a way to get Billie to a steakhouse, just so I can witness this.”

“Make sure you pack wipes, then.”

After I finished my snack, I got up to discard the rubbish. Then I resumed folding. We were finally starting to make a dent. “I’m not gonna find any random women’s panties in this pile, am I?”

He shook his head. “No panties to be found in here unless they have Disney characters on them in toddler size three.” He grinned as he fished through socks for matching pairs. “On the subject of undergarments, though, I have to ask you a serious question.”

“Okay…” I said, shaking out one of Colby’s shirts to smooth the wrinkles.

“What’s with the corset thing?” he asked, his eyes dropping to my chest.

I looked down at my open plaid shirt. “Why do I wear them all the time?”

“Yeah.”

“I just think they’re flattering. They suck everything in in all the right places and push the right things out. It’s my signature style, I guess.” My brow lifted. “Why? Do you have a problem with them?”

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. “I do.”

“Really…”

“My problem is they make it really hard not to stare. Your corsets are becoming my weakness. Sort of like how you are becoming my weakness.” He lowered his voice. “But pretend you didn’t hear that, because this is supposed to be a boring undate of laundry folding and nothing more.”

Even doing the most mundane things with Colby felt like…more. Hardly boring. And now I was thinking about what he’d just said about my corsets. I shook my head to bring myself back to the task at hand. “There is definitely something even more enjoyable about folding someone else’s laundry.”

“Well, you have an open invitation to come over and do ours anytime. Just don’t stand outside for fifteen minutes first.”

I chuckled. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Do you know how many babies were born in this world in the time you stood at my door contemplating whether or not to come in?”

“Your neighbor must have thought I was a solicitor or something.”

“She didn’t know what to think.”

“I guess it’s nice to have neighbors who look out for you. You know, in case some crazy broad shows up at your door.” I shook out a towel. “What did you tell her?”

“Well, once I looked out the peephole and realized it was you, I walked over to the other side of the apartment so you wouldn’t hear me tell her the girl standing at my door was actually someone I have a very big crush on, and that you were the furthest thing from a crazy person. I told her you were probably just apprehensive about knocking because of what that might lead to—because it was so much more than just knocking on a door. It was a figurative knocking of sorts, knocking on a world of possibilities that are both scary and exciting.”

“You really told your neighbor all that?”

“No.” He winked. “I said, ‘Thank you for letting me know. I’ll take care of it.’”

I threw a pair of his underwear at his head. Then, I looked more closely. That particular pair of red briefs seemed awfully…small.

I snickered. “Aren’t those a little small for you?”

He bent his head back in laughter. “They’re a lot small for me.”

“Then why do you wear them?”

He lifted them up with both hands. “My mother brought this pack of underwear back from Brazil for me. She took a trip there last summer. She bought a men’s size medium-large, but they shrink to like an extra small after I dry them. So they’re basically disposable. I can’t wear them more than once. Now I’ll donate ’em or something. I think that might be the last one in the pack.”

“You had me scared there for a minute,” I teased.

His eyes widened. “Believe me, there’s nothing extra small about me. I feel the need to clarify that, since according to your boundaries, that’s not something I’ll ever be able to prove.”

The wicked smile he flashed made my insides quiver. This man had an unnerving effect on me. And with each moment that passed, it became harder and harder to pretend that didn’t mean anything.

“All kidding about my shrunken underwear aside, Billie, I don’t blame you for your hesitation with me. I hope you know that. I think if I were in your position, I might hesitate, too.” He threw the red boxers aside. “And you know what? There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. Especially when there are more than two people involved in the scenario. I get it. I really do.” His eyes lingered on mine, his expression serious. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, this has got to be the most boring evening you’ve ever had with a guy, huh?”

“Actually…this is the best undate I’ve ever had,” I told him.

His eyes sparkled. “Me, too. I like our undates.”

After another half hour, we finally got to the bottom of the pile. Everything was now folded nicely, and we put the stacks of categorized clothing back into the baskets he had out. There were now four of them filled with clothes.

I looked around the room. “Is that it? Nothing more to fold?”

“I wish.” He chuckled. “As I said, I tend to put off laundry until the very last minute. In fact, one of the reasons my daughter has underwear of every Disney Princess ever in existence is because I’ve been known to buy her more underwear just so I don’t have to do laundry. It doesn’t help that Saylor spills stuff on both her and me, so we go through multiple outfits a day sometimes. I’ve still got another load in the dryer waiting to come out and another load that has to go in.”

“Well, lead the way. Let’s tackle it all tonight. I’m no quitter.”

I stood and followed him into the laundry room, which was a tiny, narrow area just off his kitchen. After squeezing into the tight space, our bodies were so close that I could practically feel him without even touching him. My breathing became rapid, and I knew why. I wanted him to kiss me. His eyes lowered to my lips, and it seemed there was no going back now.

A second later, a loud buzzing sound broke me out of my trance. The dryer had gone off.

“Shit.” He closed his eyes. “I usually try to stop it before that happens.”

“Will she wake up now?” I asked, slightly out of breath.

“She’s a pretty deep sleeper, so probably not.”

Feeling a bit rattled, not only by the buzzer, but by the fact that I’d lost my resolve, I made an impulsive decision. “You know what? I didn’t realize the time. It’s getting a bit late, and I have an early client tomorrow. I should probably head home. You think you can handle the rest yourself?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded, probably reading between the lines. “Let me call you a car.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

He pulled out his phone. “I insist.”

My ride got here in two minutes, less than the amount of time it took to carry the unfolded laundry from the dryer out to the living room.

Colby hugged me goodbye, the hard muscles of his chest pressing against my breasts and reminding me of exactly why I’d decided to leave early.

The ride home was anything but uneventful, though. Because five minutes into it, my phone chimed. Colby had sent me a photo, along with this message:

Just in case you still had any doubt about the underwear situation.

My jaw dropped. It could’ve been a Calvin Klein ad. Colby stood in front of a full-length mirror in nothing but gray boxer briefs. His beautiful, hard chest and taut abs were on full display, as was the thin line of hair trailing down into his underwear. And let’s just say the prominent bulge staring me in the face most definitely could not have fit into those tiny red Brazilian briefs. Christ on a Lunchables cracker. He was hotter than I’d ever imagined.

And now I was back to thinking maybe he wasn’t such a good guy after all—because he was clearly trying to kill me.


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