Trust
Page 51
I tune out Everly and Sawyer and think back to the day that Boyd walked into Starbucks and crashed my date. What would I have done if he’d simply asked me to go to that wedding with him? If he hadn’t told me that it was a favor?
I’d have gone. I would have, I think. Maybe? I’d have wanted to. Absolutely I’d have wanted to. But I’d have been intimidated and anxious. A basket case. A nervous wreck of joke-telling from beginning to end. I would not have been myself. I mean, the basket-case joke-telling is me, but it’s not my best me.
Or would I have said no? Deflected his interest just to avoid the anxiety of a date with Boyd? I’d absolutely have said no if I’d known it was a two-night trip. If I’d had time to think about that? Ahead of time? No way. I’d have worried about it for two weeks. I’d have imagined ten different ways I could have embarrassed myself. Gotten myself worked up about situations that might or might not even take place. The anxiety would have suffocated me.
And he knew that. He saw my awkward joke-telling disaster of a date for what it was—social anxiety. And he figured out a way for us to get to know each other in a way that would work for me. He catered this entire courtship around me. And if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.
And it hits me like a ton of bricks. Which is a stupid analogy because if a ton of bricks hit you, it’d hurt. Hmm, maybe the analogy does work, because the idea of spending another second without telling Boyd that I love him does hurt. Whatever could go wrong with us, it’s better than being without him. All the fears, all of them—I’ll figure them out. Boyd is the one. My one. And none of the rest of it matters.
“Wait, what’s happening?” Everly questions as I jam my arms into my jacket. “Where are you going?”
“Boyd’s. I love him, I’m an idiot and I have to talk to him.” My hand trembles as I stuff my phone in my pocket, but I’m not giving in to the fear. I’m trusting the love.
“Chloe, wait. You need a plan!” Everly jumps off the couch and follows me to the door. “Like… take him to Vegas and elope!” She claps her hands in delight and her eyes sparkle.
I laugh as my purse swings over my shoulder. “Thanks, but that seems a little dramatic. I’m going to keep it simple—tell him that I love him.”
“That’s a good plan too, Chloe.” Her face softens and she wraps her arms around me. “You got this, bestie.”
She slaps me on the ass as I leave with a, “Go get ‘em, tiger!” I shake my head and laugh, waving as the door closes.
Twenty-Seven
Chloe When I hit the sidewalk outside of Everly’s I nearly run smack into Boyd leaning against his car, parked at the curb.
“Boyd, I was just…” I pause, wondering what he’s thinking and where I should start. “I was just heading back to your place.”
“No need. I came to get you,” he replies. His posture is relaxed, hands in his pockets, but his eyes look strained. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I’m sorry, I turned it off at brunch this morning, it’s been in my purse all day on silent.” I am really messing up today. “How did you know I was here?”
“I tried Sophie first, who incidentally would like to set us up.” The corner of his lip curves. “Then she called Everly and found out you were on your way down so I swung over here instead.”
“Wow. You must really like me.” I can’t keep the smile from pulling at my cheek.
“Why’s that?”
“Now you’re gonna have to live with Everly having your phone number.”
“I figured I’d have to change it.”
I laugh then draw in a breath. Here goes.
“I need a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“I need to tell you a joke.”
“Okay.” He inclines his head with a half smile but the worry has left his eyes.
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“I love.”
“I love who?”
“I love you too.” Then I start giggling. “That was so bad!” I exclaim. “Like the worst!” I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. “How have you put up with me for this long?”
“Because I love you,” he says and I sink into him as he wraps his arms around me. “It was pretty bad though.” His grip on me loosens. “Hold on while I text that to myself so I can remember it forever.”
“Stop. That was practice. Let me do it again.”
“Okay.” The smile reaches his eyes now.
“Boyd Gallagher, I love you.”
We both eye each other for a moment and then he smiles. “I don’t know, I might want to keep the first one. The first one was so perfectly you.”
“You can have both of them.”
“Deal.”
Epilogue
Chloe Being a teacher has some perks. Two weeks off at Christmas is one of them. Two weeks about to be put to very good use spending the holiday in Vail with my boyfriend. Yeah, I still do a little ‘raise the roof’ happy dance when I think about Boyd being my boyfriend. But only in my head. I stopped doing it in front of people. Most of the time.
I felt a moment of guilt about not going home for Christmas, but I got over it. Boyd met my mom at Thanksgiving and we had dinner with my dad the following weekend, so I feel like I checked off any responsibility I had there. I think it’s okay for me to be little selfish and spend the holiday in a snowy cocoon with my boyfriend. How many opportunities will we have to spend two whole weeks together sipping hot cocoa and snuggling by the fire? Just the two of us?
“Babe, why are you doing that weird dance?”
“No reason,” I reply, dropping my arms.
“Really?” Boyd smirks. “What were you thinking about?”
“If you must know, it’s my candy plane dance.” It’s not. It’s my boyfriend dance. A teeny-tiny lie never hurt anybody.
I’d have gone. I would have, I think. Maybe? I’d have wanted to. Absolutely I’d have wanted to. But I’d have been intimidated and anxious. A basket case. A nervous wreck of joke-telling from beginning to end. I would not have been myself. I mean, the basket-case joke-telling is me, but it’s not my best me.
Or would I have said no? Deflected his interest just to avoid the anxiety of a date with Boyd? I’d absolutely have said no if I’d known it was a two-night trip. If I’d had time to think about that? Ahead of time? No way. I’d have worried about it for two weeks. I’d have imagined ten different ways I could have embarrassed myself. Gotten myself worked up about situations that might or might not even take place. The anxiety would have suffocated me.
And he knew that. He saw my awkward joke-telling disaster of a date for what it was—social anxiety. And he figured out a way for us to get to know each other in a way that would work for me. He catered this entire courtship around me. And if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.
And it hits me like a ton of bricks. Which is a stupid analogy because if a ton of bricks hit you, it’d hurt. Hmm, maybe the analogy does work, because the idea of spending another second without telling Boyd that I love him does hurt. Whatever could go wrong with us, it’s better than being without him. All the fears, all of them—I’ll figure them out. Boyd is the one. My one. And none of the rest of it matters.
“Wait, what’s happening?” Everly questions as I jam my arms into my jacket. “Where are you going?”
“Boyd’s. I love him, I’m an idiot and I have to talk to him.” My hand trembles as I stuff my phone in my pocket, but I’m not giving in to the fear. I’m trusting the love.
“Chloe, wait. You need a plan!” Everly jumps off the couch and follows me to the door. “Like… take him to Vegas and elope!” She claps her hands in delight and her eyes sparkle.
I laugh as my purse swings over my shoulder. “Thanks, but that seems a little dramatic. I’m going to keep it simple—tell him that I love him.”
“That’s a good plan too, Chloe.” Her face softens and she wraps her arms around me. “You got this, bestie.”
She slaps me on the ass as I leave with a, “Go get ‘em, tiger!” I shake my head and laugh, waving as the door closes.
Twenty-Seven
Chloe When I hit the sidewalk outside of Everly’s I nearly run smack into Boyd leaning against his car, parked at the curb.
“Boyd, I was just…” I pause, wondering what he’s thinking and where I should start. “I was just heading back to your place.”
“No need. I came to get you,” he replies. His posture is relaxed, hands in his pockets, but his eyes look strained. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I’m sorry, I turned it off at brunch this morning, it’s been in my purse all day on silent.” I am really messing up today. “How did you know I was here?”
“I tried Sophie first, who incidentally would like to set us up.” The corner of his lip curves. “Then she called Everly and found out you were on your way down so I swung over here instead.”
“Wow. You must really like me.” I can’t keep the smile from pulling at my cheek.
“Why’s that?”
“Now you’re gonna have to live with Everly having your phone number.”
“I figured I’d have to change it.”
I laugh then draw in a breath. Here goes.
“I need a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“I need to tell you a joke.”
“Okay.” He inclines his head with a half smile but the worry has left his eyes.
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“I love.”
“I love who?”
“I love you too.” Then I start giggling. “That was so bad!” I exclaim. “Like the worst!” I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. “How have you put up with me for this long?”
“Because I love you,” he says and I sink into him as he wraps his arms around me. “It was pretty bad though.” His grip on me loosens. “Hold on while I text that to myself so I can remember it forever.”
“Stop. That was practice. Let me do it again.”
“Okay.” The smile reaches his eyes now.
“Boyd Gallagher, I love you.”
We both eye each other for a moment and then he smiles. “I don’t know, I might want to keep the first one. The first one was so perfectly you.”
“You can have both of them.”
“Deal.”
Epilogue
Chloe Being a teacher has some perks. Two weeks off at Christmas is one of them. Two weeks about to be put to very good use spending the holiday in Vail with my boyfriend. Yeah, I still do a little ‘raise the roof’ happy dance when I think about Boyd being my boyfriend. But only in my head. I stopped doing it in front of people. Most of the time.
I felt a moment of guilt about not going home for Christmas, but I got over it. Boyd met my mom at Thanksgiving and we had dinner with my dad the following weekend, so I feel like I checked off any responsibility I had there. I think it’s okay for me to be little selfish and spend the holiday in a snowy cocoon with my boyfriend. How many opportunities will we have to spend two whole weeks together sipping hot cocoa and snuggling by the fire? Just the two of us?
“Babe, why are you doing that weird dance?”
“No reason,” I reply, dropping my arms.
“Really?” Boyd smirks. “What were you thinking about?”
“If you must know, it’s my candy plane dance.” It’s not. It’s my boyfriend dance. A teeny-tiny lie never hurt anybody.
