“Michael—” I open and close my mouth, hesitating. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I like him too. But… what will that mean? Will he ask me out?
My pulse ticks up at the thought—at going out to dinner, maybe, somewhere nice. He’d be the perfect gentleman, we’d have a lovely time, he might even kiss me…
Fuck.
I drag my gaze away from him, my mind in free fall. I want that. I want all that.
But I shouldn’t want that. I know better than to fall for it again, to give in to my romantic side. Harriet pointed it out: the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results. And what did Mum say, that I’m always dreaming of Prince Charming?
No. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I know better than to hope for a fairy-tale ending again.
Besides, what would that mean for this opportunity with my writing? Justin never said I had to be single, but how the hell would I write a column championing the single life if I wasn’t? They wouldn’t offer it to me, would they?
I shake my head, clearing away the jumble of thoughts. There’s too much at stake to give in to what I ultimately know is a bad idea.
“It’s fine, don’t be silly. You haven’t freaked me out.”
He eyes me uncertainly. “Are you sure? I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
God, he looks so adorable, like he’s actually worried I’m going to walk away from him.
“I’m sure,” I say, resisting the urge to reach over and cuddle him. “I want us to stay friends.”
“Okay. Good.” He straightens up, giving me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, that’s great news about your writing.”
I raise my cup of tea to my lips, nodding absently.
“You must be excited,” he adds.
“Yeah,” I mumble. And I sip my luke-warm tea, wondering why the excitement I felt earlier has all but evaporated.
23
I straighten the Christmas tree in the window display, smiling faintly as a customer passes. The whole store has a festive feel to it, with the tinsel and the music. There’s no escaping the holiday season around here, no matter how much I might want to.
I still cannot believe Michael said he wanted to ask me out. This whole time I had a crush on him, and he liked me too. I have to keep reminding myself that I actually didn’t imagine that part. And it’s… well, it’s bittersweet.
I know I’m doing the right thing by focusing on my writing, even if some of the shine has gone from it. At the end of the day, it’s not even about choosing my career over a guy. It’s about the fact that I’m choosing to go against that inner urge—the one that is telling me to throw caution to the wind and to, most likely, throw my heart under a bus. The one that has steered me wrong so many times before.
“It has to be a guy.” Geoff taps a finger against his lip, eyes narrowed at me as I wander over.
“What?”
“The reason you’ve been moping around all morning.”
I shake my head, attempting to paint on a smile.
“Oh, come on!” He’s rearranging the Staff Picks shelf without paying much attention. He’s much more interested in talking to me.
I release a long, resigned sigh. “Okay. Fine. It is.”
He pushes his glasses up his nose, his eyes growing wide. “Yes?”
Despite my crappy mood, a laugh tickles my throat. He’s going to love this. “You know my neighbor—”
“Sexy Michael,” he says, his eyes wider still.
“It’s him.”
“I knew it!” he exclaims, startling a customer. We both shoot her an apologetic smile then Geoff turns back to me, lowering his voice. “So, what’s happening then?”
“Nothing,” I say, waving a hand. “Well, he told me he wanted to ask me out.”
Geoff manages to suppress his squeal, but only just. It squeaks out the side of his mouth like a balloon slowly deflating.
I snort a laugh. “Nothing is going to happen.”
“What? Why not?”
“I—” I stop, wondering how to explain my newfound cynicism when it comes to love. Then I just shake my head, settling on the easiest explanation. I told Geoff about the articles I’m writing—and the possibility of getting a permanent column—as soon as I arrived at the store this morning. So I know he’ll understand. “If I want to write this single column, I won’t be able to date, so…” I lift a shoulder, as if all of this is no big deal and I don’t kind of feel like I’m dying inside.
“Do you like him?”
“He’s… okay.”
Geoff lifts his eyebrows and I feel a smile push at my lips.
“Alright. Yes. I like him.” Understatement of the freaking century.
“And you think it’s worth choosing your writing over him?”
I let my gaze slide down to the display, straightening a copy of The Great Gatsby. “It’s the whole reason I came to the city. And this is a huge opportunity for me. I still can’t believe that I’m going to get my writing published on Bliss Edition, and that I could even become one of their writers. It’s crazy.”
“It’s great,” Geoff says with a grin. “And I’m not at all surprised. You’re a fantastic writer.”
“Aw, thanks.” I pause, wondering if I should tell him about my romance novel. He saw me borrow those books a while back, so I’m sure he won’t be surprised. “I’ve also been working on a romance novel, just for myself. It’s fun.”
Geoff’s grin widens. “I bet.”
“Yeah. I had to do something with all the—” I break off with a vague gesture, looking at my boss’s expectant face. He might be my boss, but I’ve come to see Geoff more as a friend. No reason to censor myself. “Repressed sexual energy,” I say at last.
Geoff’s biting his lip to keep from snickering. “Wow. So you really like Michael.”
I nod, feeling my smile waver. I do. And while I want so much more than to be friends with
