A Little in Love With You

(a Love at First Note novella)

By Jenny Proctor

Copyright 2016

Chapter 1

Lilly

Great. More snow.

I closed the blinds over the faded brown couch in my apartment and sat down to pull on my boots. Our third snowstorm in as many weeks, Asheville was beginning to feel a little more like the northern Midwest than the mild southern paradise I’d grown to love. Especially since with my job, it didn’t matter if there was four inches of icy slush on the ground. The rest of the city closed down, sure. But newborn babies don’t exactly care about the weather. When everyone else gets a snow day, nurses just get a harder-to-get-there work day.

I scooped my keys off the table by the door and pulled my long dark ponytail forward so I could pull up the hood on my coat.

Stupid coat.

Stupid snow.

Stupid sidewalk that’s never scraped and almost killed me last week. Twice.

I continued to grumble as I inched my way through the icy streets of downtown. It was really, really really time for spring.

Despite several accidents on the highway, I stepped into the hospital with five minutes to spare before my shift started.

“Lilly! You made it.” My supervisor met me at the desk. She looked even more frazzled than normal.

“It was slow going, but once I hit McDowell the roads weren’t too bad. How are things?”

She breathed a weary sigh. “Jane’s stuck in Black Mountain. She’s trying to shovel out but it may be a while, and Deb just called and said she’s stuck behind a jack-knifed semi on the highway. And of course, every baby in all of Buncombe County decided today was a great day to join the world.” She shook her head. “Hang your coat up, honey. It’s going to be a long day.”

Even the soft southern cadence of Brenda’s words couldn’t soothe my annoyance. I needed sunshine. And sand. And a good book and a long nap. Not an overcrowded, understaffed labor and delivery floor in the middle of a snowstorm.

I listened as the night shift briefed us on our patients for the day and tried to stay focused, but my heart was so far from in it. I needed something to break my bad mood, and fast. No mamma deserved a nurse as cranky as me. Before greeting my patients, I took a detour into the bathroom and pulled out my phone.

It was just past 7 AM. Maybe Emma was up? Probably not. But best friends forgive early AM texts. Or so I convinced myself as I typed out a message.

ME: Tell me something funny. I need to be happy and bring life into the world but really just feel like spitting on everyone.

Her reply came through immediately.

EMMA: Even on the babies? That’s a little harsh.

ME: Seriously. It’s snowing again today and I want to pull off all my fingernails.

EMMA: But then you’d be cold AND in pain.

ME: You’re not helping.

EMMA: Just remind yourself that no matter how much snow you get there, we’re getting more in Cleveland.

ME: Yeah?

EMMA: Something like 22 inches. And nothing here EVER gets cancelled for snow. I am officially a snow wimp.

ME: Me too. For real. Something funny? I need to go work and can only do it if I laugh first.

EMMA: Hmm. How about kind of exciting?

ME: Okay.

A moment later, a picture popped up in the message thread. It was Emma, but the camera was aimed high and over her left shoulder so you could only see the top half of her face.

EMMA: See that guy standing behind me? she texted. In the blue jacket? That’s Zac Efron.

ME: !!!! For real?

EMMA: I played in New York with the Philharmonic last week and he was at the concert. He came to the reception after.

I rolled my eyes. Emma was a violinist, like a big time famous violinist that played all over the country and yet she still stole pictures of the back of Zac Efron’s head with an over-the-shoulder selfie. She could have walked right up and introduced herself. As gorgeous as she is, he probably would have asked to get a picture with her.

ME: Did you get his number? Think he’ll take me out this weekend?

EMMA: Of course. He’ll pick you up at 7.

ME: If only.

EMMA: He did smile at me. He has a nice smile.

That’s probably what I needed more than anything to break me out of my funk. A date. Or even just a smile at this point. It’d been so long since a guy noticed me, or at least since I’d noticed a guy noticing me, I’d settle for anything.

Emma’s next message popped up.

EMMA: The right guy is out there, Lil. And you will find him.

How that girl thought two steps ahead of me was baffling, but she always did

ME: Yeah, yeah.

EMMA: Here. Something funny.

Another picture popped up, this one of a kitten stuck inside a very small mason jar.

ME: Success! That one made me smile.

EMMA: Go deliver babies. Rock your long legs and baby browns… maybe you’ll meet someone today.

ME: Yes. Because expectant fathers make great dates.

EMMA: Oh yeah. Right. A dashing new resident, maybe? A lunch delivery boy? I’m just saying. YOU NEVER KNOW.

Okay, maybe you didn’t ever know in general, but I thought it was pretty safe to say I did know I would never meet a guy at work. And I kinda didn’t want to. Not with the way my pale purple scrubs made me look all washed out and sallow.

A three minute convo with Emma went a long way to put me in a better mood; at least enough to go through the motions with a smile on my face. A fake smile, mostly, but, whatever. At least I wasn’t spitting.

* * *

After lunch, stuff got so crazy, I forgot about my bad mood by default. There was too much going on. Two epidurals, one passed out father, three deliveries, and one C-section later, I finally sank into a chair at the nurse’s desk.

“You look whooped,” Jane said from behind me.

I turned. “Hey, I didn’t realize you made it in.”

She nodded. “I’ve been here a couple hours. Where have you been?”

“The OR. I had to scrub in and cover a C-section. It feels like half the staff didn’t make it in today.”

“Oh, was it the twins? I saw the babies upstairs. They look good.”

“Yeah. They’ll be in the NICU a week or so, but they’re strong. I don’t think they’ll have any complications.”

“That’s good news.” She stretched her arms up over her head then rubbed her shoulders. “Sorry I was late. My driveway is far too long for shoveling.”

I grimaced. “Just the thought makes me love that I live in the city.” Even if they never scraped the sidewalks.

The call button buzzed behind us and we both turned. I was closest, so I reached over and answered the call. “What can I do for you?”

A deep voice answered. “Hi, can we get a nurse in here, please?”

My eyebrows went up as I released the intercom button. “That’s some voice,” I said to Jane. And it was. Deep and rich and resonant. Even the simple sentence uttered into the call button gave me chills.

“Tell me about it. Was that 315? He’s kinda cute too.”

A second buzz came through, this one from room 320. “Hi, um, I think my water just broke?”

“One of yours?” I asked Jane.

“They’re both mine. Can you check on 315 for me? She just got here and she’s nowhere near delivery. I doubt she needs anything huge.”

We stood up together. “Sure. I’ll check on her.”

Jane was not wrong. Deep-voice-baby-daddy was cute. I mean, he wasn’t Zac Efron. He was more understated, and a little more rugged. Basically, he was the quintessential Asheville guy—longish brown hair, loose waves hanging over his ears, a beard, and these eyes that were deep and dark and . . . yeah. I stared.

I gave my head a slight shake. “Hi. I’m Lilly. Jane’s assisting with a delivery right now, so she sent me to see what I could do to help.”

The dad stepped forward. “Travis.” He shook my hand, holding it a beat too long. Somehow it didn’t feel awkward. More like he was pulling me in, waiting for my eyes to meet his. Then they did, and this little zing thing happened. I pulled away and took a giant step back. Because, hello. There was a pregnant woman in the bed beside me and it was his baby. I turned my attention to the actual patient. That I hadn’t gone straight to her when I entered the room was a huge faux pas, and one I needed to make up for.

Travis followed, stopping on the other side of the bed. Our eyes met one more time. Maybe it was straight up intuition, or just the look in his eyes, but I could tell. He’d felt something too.  “Sorry,” he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets and motioned his head toward the bed. “This is Avery.”

Sorry? That you just got all warm and zingy shaking hands with a nurse while the woman pregnant with your child chills in the bed beside you? Sorry?!

Yeah. Maybe he wasn’t so cute after all.

Avery looked a lot more like she was sitting down to an afternoon picnic than prepping to have a baby. Her hair was fixed, her nails done, her makeup perfectly in place. She sat cross-legged, the blanket pulled to just below her belly which was exposed, covered only by the external monitors that were tracking her contractions and the baby’s heartbeat.

“How are things?” I asked.

“I’m just trying to figure out if what I’m feeling is actually a contraction.”

I picked up the print out that marked each contraction. She’d had a few, but definitely nothing noteworthy.

“Okay, right now,” Avery said. “Am I having one right now?” She placed both her hands on her belly and scrunched her eyebrows then took a few deep breathes. “Actually that one kinda hurt a little.”

I smiled. “That was definitely a contraction. How long have they been going on?”

“They started this morning, but they’ve been pretty random until now.”

“But it doesn’t seem like any of them have really been hurting,” Travis added.

She shot him a look. “Don’t tell her that! If they aren’t hurting, they might send me home again.”

“Again?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Apparently this baby would like to hang out inside of me until I’m carrying around a seventeen pound toddler.”

I smiled. “At two weeks late, I don’t think anyone is sending you home.” I repositioned the monitor strapped across her belly.

Travis motioned to Avery’s IV bag, hanging on a pole behind her. “That’s supposed to speed it up, right?”

I nodded, working hard to keep my gaze focused somewhere over his left shoulder. It was a nice shoulder. Round and probably firm and . . . Oh geez. Focus. “In theory, the Pitocin she’s getting through her IV should speed things up, though it doesn’t seem to be doing much yet.”

Avery collapsed back onto her pillow.

“What happens if it doesn’t work?” Travis asked.

“I wouldn’t worry about that too much. It’s a process, and not usually a quick one.”

“What if I end up needing a C-section?”

“If you do, you’ll be just fine. You’ve got a great doctor, and he’ll keep a close eye on the baby and do what’s best for you both. But don’t worry about that. Don’t even think about it for now. Just focus on what your body is capable of. You’re getting ready to do a really amazing thing, yeah? You’ve got this.”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t want a C-section.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think you’re going to need one.” 

“But if I do?”

“Then you’ll be amazing in the OR instead of in here.”

She smiled away the doubt that was creasing her brow. “I am amazing, aren’t I?” She didn’t look particularly thrilled at the prospect of a C-section, which was normal, but she also didn’t look panicky. That was a good sign. Panicky moms stressed me out.

Travis, on the other hand, looked seconds away from passing out. He gripped the side of the bed railing with both fists, his knuckles white.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

He looked up. “Oh. Yeah. I was just . . . so, if there was a . . . if she . . . a C-section. I would be there for that, right?”

Seriously? “If it came to that, yes. You would be.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting all freaked out for,” Avery said, looking at Travis. “It’s not like the doctors will be getting all up in your business.”

Ha. True enough.

He gave her a sympathetic look. “No, you’re right. But, I’ve never done this before. I’m just trying to figure stuff out.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand.

She patted his arm, shifting so her IV didn’t tangle. Her eyes were warm and loving. “I’m glad you’re here, Trav.”

He smiled. “Me too.”

Their affection suddenly made me feel guilty for thinking he was a jerk. I mean, what did I know? Who’s to say I didn’t make the entire zingy feeling thing up? It was probably a stretch to think that anyone, with my plastered on fake smile, deeply rooted bad mood, and let’s not forget horrid purple scrubs, would feel anything close to a zing from me anyway. I was just crazy. The end.

I had to get out of there. “Is there anything else you need before I go?” I asked.

Avery shook her head. “I think we’re great for now.”

I left the room, the tingles up my arm from Travis’ handshake still lingering. Except, no. Nothing was lingering because I’d made it all up.

Right?

I slumped against the wall outside their room. Even if I hadn’t made it up, it’s not like it mattered. The guy was married.

I paused. I guess I didn’t know for sure they were married. Had he been wearing a wedding band? But even if they weren’t, he and Avery were clearly committed. Which meant my stupid zingy reaction to him, made up or not, would never ever matter.

Chapter 2

Trav

“She’s cute.” Avery shifted her weight and stretched. “You should ask for her number.”

“Are you seriously telling me to hit on your labor and delivery nurse?”

She shot me a pointed look. “Why not? It’s time to get back in the saddle. Beside, she’s not my nurse. She’s just a nurse. So it’s not like she’s going to be coming in here every ten minutes making things awkward if she says no. Just go for it. See what she says.”

“I love you, Av. You’re the best little sister a guy could hope for. But you don’t get to call the shots in my dating life anymore. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

“Ha! You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

I smiled. “It was the best worse prom date I ever had.”

Avery winced and her hands flew to her belly, her face scrunched up and tight.

“What’s the matter? What’s wrong? Do I need to call the nurse?”

She rolled her eyes and forced out a breath. “It’s just another contraction. They’re starting to feel a little more intense.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “Here. Can you roll that ball over here for me?”

“Can you get up? You’re all . . . hooked up and stuff. And what about the baby?”

“What, you think he’s just gonna fall out? As long as I stay right here, I’m fine. I’m just feeling restless and I want to sit on something besides this bed.”

I rolled the giant exercise ball to her bedside, wishing it was the baby’s father standing next to her instead of me. She must have read my mind.

“Any word yet?” She reached for my hand, gripping it tightly as she lowered herself onto the ball. “Don’t move,” she said. “I need you for balance.”

I pulled out my phone to see if the baby’s father had called, but I would have heard the notification had something come in. The screen was blank, no missed calls, no emails, no texts. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

Her shoulders dropped and she huffed. “Idiot man.”

The silenced stretched, nothing to fill it but our own thoughts humming through our brains. “I’m sorry he’s not here, Av,” I finally said. “I know I’m not much of a substitute.”

She shook her head and looked me right in the eye. “Don’t say that, Trav. You’re a better man than he’ll ever be.”

I guess I’d been all right as far as big brothers go. Avery and I had been on our own since we were teenagers and we’d made it okay. But my role had always been more straightforward. Jumpstart the car. Move the dishwasher. Scare away the weird neighbor guy that wouldn’t stop asking her out. But this was different. I knew as much about having babies as I did about arranging flowers. Which was precisely and exactly nothing. I guess I’d known this moment was coming, but I always kind of figured the dad would step up. Take ownership.

Or not.

Sad that the best Avery could do for support was her generally responsible but sometimes flaky older brother.

Avery breathed through another contraction then looked at me with her “time to get serious” eyes. “So let’s talk about Lilly.”

“Who’s Lilly?”

Her serious eyes shifted into “you’re stupid” eyes. “The nurse that you couldn’t stop staring at. You know, the one that left the room less than ten minutes ago?”

“Oh, right. Her.” So, fine. I’d stared. The girl looked like a freakin’ super model. Dark hair, great skin, and these eyes that were this rich chocolate brown color.

“Maybe her shift’s ending soon. You could take her out for coffee.”

“And leave you here alone?”

“Geez, you’re right. This baby seems like he’s really in a hurry.”

I dropped onto the vinyl cushion of the bench under the window. “But here? While you’re . . . it just seems wrong.”

“Oh come on. It’s not like you’re the baby’s father. And she knows that. How many times did the admitting nurse ask what our relationship was? It’s written all over my chart. Plus, she was totally staring at you, too. Trust me.” She waved her hands in the air. “This is meant to be.” She grabbed her belly. “Ow, crap. These things hurt.”

Coffee. I could do coffee. Maybe I could do coffee? The second I really considered it, a tightness pulled at my gut. It was too soon. I was too damaged. Too . . . vulnerable, maybe? It’d been four months since my breakup with Darcy. And it still burned to think of her. Bad. “I think it’s too soon,” I said more to myself than Avery.

“Travis.”

I looked up.

“Just talk to her. It’s not too soon for that. Besides, all women are not like Darcy. You can’t let her ruin everything.”

I believed that. Darcy was an anomaly. A freak of twisted, cruel, backstabbing nature. Maybe it really was time to give someone else a chance. I flipped through a Backpacker magazine for half an hour chewing on my thoughts, then tossed it aside when I realized I’d read the same paragraph four times and still had no idea what it was about. It was stupid. Avery was right, but still. Stupid. I glanced at my watch. Half an hour till seven—till shift change. Fine.

I looked at Avery.  “So . . . you think maybe you need to ask the nurse about your pain management options?”

Avery laughed. “Pain management options? Fancy words, Trav. And so official.”

I scoffed. “Do you want me to talk to her again or not?”

“Oh! Right! Yes. Let’s talk to the nurse.” She reached over and pushed the call button on the side of her bed.

“What can I do for you?” A tinny voice called through the speaker.

“That’s her,” Avery whispered to me. “I can tell.” She turned back to the speaker. “Hi. I just have a few more questions. Can you maybe come back for a minute?”

“Sure thing,” the voice responded.

I left Avery sitting on the ball and walked to the bathroom, where I stared into the mirror, my hands gripping the sides of the sink. I felt incredibly off my game. It might have just been that my flirting skills had rusted from lack of use but a part of me was afraid Darcy had just screwed me up too bad for repair. I moved back to the window just as Lilly came through the door. She stopped at the foot of Avery’s bed and smiled. “What’s up?”

Avery made up some sequence of questions about pain and IV meds and epi-whatevers then listened as Lilly walked her through the answers.

Long story short, as long as Avery could bounce and talk and smile through her pain, she was a long way from needing any of the serious drugs.

“But how will I know when it’s time? I thought labor was supposed to be this big thing, but this feels a little underwhelming.”

Lilly smiled. “I promise you’ll know when things get serious.”

Avery leaned back. “Do you have any kids?”

Lilly shook her head, a smile still playing on her lips. “Nope, but I’ve been working here for two years and I’ve seen a lot of patients just like you.”

“Oh good. So I’m not the only one that gestates like an elephant. How comforting.”

Lilly laughed. “You’re definitely not the only one.”

When she laughed, her nose crinkled up and she looked younger, less super model like and more, girl-next-door cute. I was really digging it.

“Two years, huh?” Thank you Avery for keeping the conversation going.

“Yep. I started right out of school, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Did you grow up around here?” Good question.

“Not too far. About thirty minutes away.”

“Do you want kids?”

Lilly paused and I tensed up, wondering if Avery was pushing her luck with so many questions.

“Sorry,” Avery added. “Is that too personal? I guess I’m just curious if working with babies all the time makes you want one of your own. Or is it more like working in fast food? You make French fries all day so you never want to actually eat them.”

“Ha!” Lilly laughed again. “It’s definitely not like fast food.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I do want kids. Some day. When I’ve met the right guy, I guess.”

Score. Relationship status defined.

“So what do you like to do in your spare time?”

Lilly hesitated again and Avery shot me a don’t-think-I-can-keep-this-up-forever look.

“Sorry for all the questions,” I said, finally joining the conversation. “I think we’re just . . . bored.”

Lilly looked up, we made eye contact, and my pulse instantly climbed.

“It’s fine,” she said, her eyes still trained on mine. “I don’t mind you asking.” She seemed to think for a second, then shrugged. “I guess mostly, I like hiking, and backpacking.”

“Really?” Avery maybe sounded a little too enthusiastic. “Trav does too! He hiked the entire Appalachian Trail last year.” She looked at me, pride glowing all over her face.

“For real? Northbound or south? How long did it take you?” Lilly asked.

So she knew what she was talking about. “North. I finished in just under five months.”

“Dude, that’s a great time.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m so jealous. I’m hiking it too, just in pieces. I can’t get the time off work to do it all at once. I want to, though.”

“How much have you hiked?”

“Everything from here to Virginia, and the northern half of Pennsylvania.”

“Not bad,” I told her. It was actually dang amazing, but I was trying to play it cool.

“I’ve just done the easy part,” she said. “I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to manage the time off to hit the northern section.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the southern half of the trail was definitely my favorite part,” I said.

“Yeah? I’ve heard Mt. Katahdin blows everything else away.” She fiddled with the hem of her scrubs, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

“Hmm, yeah, Katahdin is pretty amazing, but, I don’t know. There’s something about the southern Appalachians.”

She took a step closer. “Do you have a favorite trail?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Silar Bald over in Franklin.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a great one.”

You know it?”

She shook her head and laughed. “It’s my favorite, too.”

I stood up and pushed my hands in my pockets, mostly because it gave me the chance to remove even more of the space between us. I couldn’t stop staring at her eyes.

She leaned onto the balls of her feet, like she was . . . excited, maybe? “Have you ever done the Silar night hike? The outdoor store on Main St. puts it on every year.”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

She had freckles on her nose and across the bridge of her cheeks. I really loved those freckles.

“It’s amazing,” she continued. “They build this big bonfire at the top. I mean, you don’t get the view, obviously, which is admittedly the best part of Silar, but there’s something pretty amazing about being up there, feeling the energy of the mountain and the people.” She shifted. “Sorry. I’m probably doing a terrible job explaining.”

I laughed. “No, you’re pretty convincing. Actually, that might be what it is I like so much about the southern half. The energy. It’s like the mountains have a different kind of spirit down here.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Like they hold all this native history and hidden culture and you can’t ever be out there without really feeling it.”

I took another step forward. “Exactly.”

Then we just stood there. Staring at each other.

“Wow,” Avery said. “Seems like you guys have a lot to talk about.”

Lilly’s face paled and she turned to look at Avery, taking a huge step back. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .” She pushed the heel of her hand into her forehead. “I should get back to work.” She repositioned the monitors on Avery’s belly, making sure everything was hooked up correctly, then slipped out the door.

“Why did you let her leave?” Avery asked.

“Why did you scare her away?” I shot back. “She thought you were criticizing her for talking to me.”

“I was trying to give you a lead in. You should have asked her for coffee right then.”

“While she’s working?”

“She won’t be working in ten more minutes. Go catch her!”

“You think?”

“Yes, I think. Go at 7, walk her to her car, and ask her out.”

A spark of hope lit up my chest. I could do it. I was going to do it. Because Avery was right. It had been long enough. And with a woman like Lilly—I’d always regret it if I didn’t at least try.

Chapter 3

Lilly

I leaned against the wall right beside the nurse’s desk and closed my eyes, still distracted by my conversation with Travis. It was totally screwed up. And totally unfair. Why? Why did he have to have hiked the whole of the Appalachian trail? Why did he have to be cute in a rugged outdoorsy kind of way with the perfect amount of scruffy beard and this voice that . . .

“Hey, Lil, you okay?” Jane walked up and stopped in front of me.

“What? Yeah, sorry. Just catching my breath, I guess.”

“It’s your turn to report off. Can you come?”

I nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

I followed her down the hall, briefed the night shift nurse that was taking over my patients and finally headed for home.

In the elevator on my way out, I got a text from Emma.

EMMA: How was the day? Feeling any better?

Ha. Hardly. I keyed out my response. I met a guy today.

EMMA: WHAT??! I TOLD YOU!!

ME: Yeah. His baby should be born sometime tomorrow.

EMMA: Oh. That sucks.

ME: Tell me about it. He’s totally perfect and totally taken. Just my luck.

The elevator dinged open. I reached up and wrapped my scarf around my neck and headed toward the staff parking lot. I could see through the door at the end of the hall it was already covered with a new layer of snow.

Stupid snow.

A few steps down the hallway, I heard my name.

“Lilly!”

I turned. Travis was hurrying down the hallway in my direction. He stopped right in front of me, holding his hand up like he was trying to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” he finally muttered. “I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you.”

“Is everything okay? You should have a new nurse by now . . .”

“Oh, no. Everything’s fine. Avery’s fine. I wasn’t . . . I didn’t . . . this isn’t about her.”

I pulled my gloves out of my coat pocket and put them on. “Oh.”

“Listen.” He seemed nervous, fidgety. “I realize this may seem entirely inappropriate, considering the circumstances, and I don’t want to take away from what Avery is going through at all, but, can I buy you a cup of coffee? Or, I don’t know, maybe we could grab dinner sometime?”

My mind was a jumble of words and thoughts and feelings. Number one, he liked me enough to ask me for coffee. Number two, he looked really good standing there, all sheepish. But number three cancelled both of those things out. Because it was staring at me in huge glaring capital letters. HIS WIFE (Or girlfriend. Or . . . woman companion, or WHATEVER) WAS UPSTAIRS HAVING A BABY.

I couldn’t fault him for feeling a connection. But acting on it was another matter altogether. I valued integrity too much for my opinion of him not to totally tank at his suggestion. The sizzle from earlier? Yeah. Total lead in my stomach.

I took a step backward and shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Really? Just coffee? Come on. What’s the harm in that?”

“What’s the harm? Are you actually being serious right now?”

“Whoa. Hold on. I wasn’t trying to offend. I guess I just thought we had a connection. It seemed like you felt it too, like you were . . . interested.”

My cheeks flooded with guilt. Noticing he was cute was one thing, but . . . had I really made him think I was interested? Like, interested interested? I took another step backwards. “I think you’ve misunderstood me. I would never have coffee with you. Or dinner. Or . . . anything.”

“Oh.” He looked stunned. And wounded. “Okay. Sorry I asked then.”

“I need to go.” I pulled my bag higher onto my shoulder and stalked to the exit. Once through the door, I turned and saw him through the glass, standing in the same spot, his arms folded across his chest.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid man and stupid unfair world.

Before, I’d been annoyed he wasn’t available, but now I was annoyed and angry. Because, dude, you don’t hit on nurses when your wife is in labor. It’s diving to the very bottom of the pit of bad behavior. The bottom of the bottom. Ugh.

I texted Emma while waiting for my windshield to defrost so I could drive home.

ME: My crush on cute baby daddy is officially over.

EMMA: Yeah? Why?

ME: He hit on me.

EMMA: Ohhh. Yeah, that would do it. I’m sorry.

ME: Meh. I’ll survive.

And I would. Of course I would.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t wish really hard for Avery to hurry and have her baby before my shift started the next morning. The faster they were off my floor, the better.

Chapter 4

Trav

Back in the room, Avery was pacing in circles, a sheen of sweat visible on her forehead. She stopped in her tracks and glared at me. “Where have you been?”

I looked at my watch. “What? I’ve only been gone twenty minutes.”

She leaned onto the foot of the bed. “Is that all? It feels like it’s been twenty hours. And I’m tired and hungry and I really just want to have this baby.”

I stopped behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “You’re doing great. How are the contractions?”

“Worse. Painful. Terrible. Like my insides are being ripped out with a giant pointy claw.”

“Wow. Sounds . . . awful.”

She turned and leaned on my shoulder. Her breathing intensified. “It is awful. Oh no no no… I don’t want another one right now.”

I took hold of her elbows, letting her lean on me until the contraction had passed. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, but I need drugs. I think I understand what the nurse meant when she said I would know when the pain was bad enough.”

“Drugs. Okay. You want me to call Buster? I’m pretty sure he could sneak in a little medicinal marijuana.”

She punched my arm. “Shut up. You’re not funny at all.”

“You could probably just breathe the scent off his clothes. It might be enough to take the edge off.”

She at least cracked a smile at that one.

“Your roommate is the very last person I want to see right now,” Avery said. “No matter what he smells like.”

I walked her back to the bed. “You want me to go tell your nurse you’re ready for the strong stuff?”

“Yes, please. And hurry.”

By 10 PM, Avery was chilling with an epidural, watching Patrick Dempsey in Can’t Buy Me Love while I dozed on the couch beside her. It’s possible I got a little queasy when the anesthesiologist stuck a giant needle into Avery’s spine. And it’s possible I might have passed out and was ordered by nurse Ilene to get myself out of the way and stop making such a scene. Possibly.

“How’re you feeling, Trav?” Avery looked better. The lines of pain that had been etched across her forehead were gone and her color was good.

I stretched and stood up. “I think I need food. You want anything?”

“Sure. A bacon double cheeseburger. With extra bacon. And a Cherry Coke. Actually, the nurse just offered me one, but I worried the smell might make you queasy so I decided to just have these ice chips instead.” She held up her cup and forced a smile.

Right. She couldn’t eat. I grimaced. “Sorry. I forgot.” I rubbed my hands through my hair. “How’s your pain?”

She patted her legs. “Totally and completely gone.” Suddenly she learned forward, gripping the sides of her hospital bed. “Dude. I didn’t even ask. What did Lilly say?”

I winced just thinking about her rejection. “Yeah. You don’t need to ask.”

“What? Why? What did she say?”

“Let’s see if I can get it exactly right.” I cleared my throat. “I will never get coffee with you. Or have dinner. Or anything.”

Avery’s jaw dropped. “Wow. That’s a pretty thorough rejection.”

“Maybe the worst I’ve ever gotten. Did I misread things when we were talking? I kinda felt like she was in to me.”

“She totally seemed into you! I don’t know, Trav. That’s weird.”

I shrugged. “Meh. It doesn’t matter. I’m probably too screwed up for a woman like her anyway.”

“Shut up. So you have a past. We all do. But you’re not allowed to act like love isn’t a possibility. Because if there’s no hope for you, there’s definitely no hope for me.” She leaned back onto her pillows, her hands resting on her belly.

“Avery. You’re crazy. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”

Her eyebrows went up. “A mostly broke jewelry designer with a flat-line career path and a baby? I’m sure I’ll be at the top of every guy’s list.”

I moved to her bed and squeezed her foot. “You know I’ll babysit for you anytime you want to go out,” I said. “I promise.”

She smiled, genuine this time. “You’re going to be a good uncle.”

“So what do you say you have that baby right now so we can be good and gone before Lilly comes back to work tomorrow?”

She groaned. “Right now? Can I sleep a little first?”

I clapped my hands with mock enthusiasm. “Where is the desperation of two hours ago? Come on! Let’s do this thing.”

“Because having a baby is always an on demand activity. Put your quarter in and here ya go! Besides, two hours ago I did not have drugs that make me this happy.”

“You could at least try,” I muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “Go get some food. You’ll feel better.”

I retrieved my coat from the chair beside her bed and pulled it on. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

She nodded. “Trav, don’t worry about Lilly. Whatever her reasons for rejecting you, it wasn’t because there’s anything wrong. You’re wonderful. The right girl will see that.”

“Thanks, Av. I’ll be back soon.”

I was half way to Five Guys to pick up a burger when my phone dinged with an incoming text. I glanced at the screen. Darcy? I hadn’t heard from her in months. What could she possibly want? I couldn’t tell if the sudden nervousness I felt was more from trepidation or excitement. I shouldn’t be excited about a text from Darcy. I didn’t want to be excited about it. And yet . . . I totally was.

Chapter 5

Lilly

Here’s the annoying thing.

Even though I knew he was married. Even though I knew he was completely and totally off limits and was a jerk for coming onto me in the first place, I still thought about Travis all night. Because the chemistry! And his scruffy beard. And his gorgeous eyes.

Stupid eyes. I rubbed my hands together, still cold from my drive into work, and waited for the elevator doors to open. He’d probably pass those eyes onto his kid. A kid I could only hope was already born and safely tucked away one floor up in recovery, his parents right along with him.

Or maybe she could still be in labor. And be my patient for the day.

Just my luck.

“I can’t take 315. Isn’t she Jane’s patient?”

My shift supervisor gave me a pointed look. “Yes. But Jane isn’t working today. You’re the only other nurse that spent any time with them yesterday. You make the most sense.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Maybe so. But, the dad, he . . .” I hesitated. “He made me a little uncomfortable.” It sounded lame, being so vague, but I definitely didn’t want to spill the whole story.

“The dad? You mean the brother?”

“No. The dad. Nice eyes, beard, deep voice?”

“I know who you’re talking about, but he’s not the dad. There is no dad. The man you just described is the patient’s older brother.”

My eyebrows went up. “What? No. That can’t be right. He told me . . .” Except, he hadn’t told me. And Avery hadn’t either. At no point in any of our conversations had they said anything that identified them as husband and wife. To be fair, they also didn’t say anything about being brother and sister. And it’s not like that’s exactly common on the labor and delivery floor.

My supervisor tapped her pen against the counter. “So I guess you didn’t read over the patient’s chart?”

“I was only with them a minute and only answered basic questions. It didn’t seem necessary.”

“So him not being the father. That makes things a little less uncomfortable?”

Travis was the brother. Travis was the brother. Travis was the freaking big brother.

Somewhere in the middle of my utter shock and embarrassment, a tiny seed of hope took root. All that chemistry, all those sparks and grab-my-gut feelings could actually mean something. Then my own voice echoed back through my head. I’d used the word “never” like it was the last nail in an iron lined coffin. Talk about blowing my chances.

“Lilly. Can you handle this patient or not?”

I shook away my distracted thoughts and forced my attention back to my supervisor. “Of course. I misunderstood something, but it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Time was short. Avery was in active labor and probably only had an hour or so to go. If I was going to apologize, I’d better do it quick. Except, how? It was hard enough facing him when he was enticing but completely unavailable. Now he was enticing, available and interested. I was sweating before I’d even entered the room.

I coped with my nerves by diving straight into Avery’s care. Travis sat in the corner, his face buried in his phone while I took Avery’s vitals and checked her progress. “How are you feeling?”

She wiped her arm across her forehead. “Tired. Hungry. Ready to be done.”

“Baby’s heart rate looks good.”

She rubbed her belly. “Yeah. He’s a champ.”

“Any names picked out yet?”

She smiled and looked at her brother. “Um, actually, I think I’m going to name him Travis.”

He looked up. “Are you serious?”

Avery shrugged. “It’s a good name. And it was Dad’s name too. Do you mind?”

He grinned. “I don’t mind.”

Oh, grinning Travis did not help my nerves at all.

I turned to the computer screen, occupying myself wholly and completely with the necessary task of updating Avery’s chart. Slowly. Carefully. More methodically than I’d ever updated a chart in all of my career as a nurse. But I didn’t want to leave, not until I’d said something about last night’s goof. The siblings were whispering behind me, too low for me to really make out what was being said, but not low enough for me to miss the urging in Avery’s voice. I turned around.

“You guys okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine.” Avery gave her brother a pointed look.

Travis stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets then headed straight for the door. “Yeah, sure. Great,” he muttered, before slipping out. The derision in his voice was thick.

Avery gave me a look, her eyebrow arched high, a question in her eyes. So he’d told her about my oh-so-friendly rejection.

I stepped forward. “Look, I didn’t know . . .”

Before I could explain further, Avery’s doctor, Dr. Koyle, pushed into the room. “How’s everyone feeling today?”

“Ready to have a baby,” Avery said.

Dr. Koyle checked her progress and smiled. “I think you’re ready to push.”

Avery lit up. “Right now?”

I shifted into action, readying the room for the delivery.

Dr. Koyle nodded. “You’ve been working the past couple of hours.”

“While I was sleeping?”

“Sometimes that’s how it works. Those epidurals are pretty potent. Do you want your brother here with you?”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “He’s all I’ve got.”

The doctor looked my way.  “Lilly, can you find him and bring him in?”

He was at the end of the hallway, staring at a montage of newborn baby photos, his arms folded across his chest.

“Travis?”

He looked up.

“Avery’s ready to push. And she’s asking for you.”

He pushed past me without saying more than a grumbled, “thanks.”

“Travis, wait.”

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry about last night. I just misunderstood . . .”

He cut me off. “I’m pretty sure I have something more important to think about right now.”

* * *

In spite of the tension between Travis and I, the delivery was kind of amazing. They’re always amazing, mostly. But this one—it felt different. Avery was young—three years younger than me—yet she was completely stoic and calm, ready to face motherhood head on. I was in awe of her strength. Plus, Travis was the best kind of support person. He stayed right by Avery’s head (Avery screamed that if he looked anywhere south of her belly button she’d never speak to him again), squeezed her hands, pushed the hair out of her face, rubbed her shoulders. He had every right to feel uncomfortable, having obviously never been through anything like childbirth before, but he put it all aside to be what his sister needed him to be. It kinda made me wish I had a brother.

As I took the baby’s first vitals and wrapped him up, Travis looked over my shoulder and snapped a few pictures with his phone. For a minute, it was easy to forget what had happened between us. “This part of your job doesn’t ever get old, does it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “It’s definitely the best part.”

He reached forward and touched the baby’s tiny hand, wrapping it around his pointer finger. “He’s amazing.”

I didn’t want to spoil the moment. Nothing about the past hour had anything to do with me. I hardly had the right to demand any kind of attention. But he was right there. Close enough that I could speak without anyone else in the room hearing me. I swallowed my hesitation. “Travis, I didn’t understand.”

He kept his eyes glued to his nephew’s face. At least he didn’t turn away.

“I thought you were the baby’s father.”

His eyes snapped to mine.

“That you and Avery were . . .” I shrugged. “It was an honest mistake. I wasn’t with you long enough to have read the notes in your chart, so I just assumed. That’s the only reason I said no.”

“You thought I was married.”

I nodded. “And about to have a baby.”

“Geez, that really would have made me a jerk.”

“Right? So you can understand the vehemence in my refusal.”

The right side of his lips lifted in a sly half smile. “But otherwise you would have said yes?”

Heat crept into my cheeks. “Why don’t you ask me again and see for yourself.”

He couldn’t ask, not before we were both swept back into taking care of Avery, and new baby Travis, getting them situated and ready to move upstairs. But that didn’t keep us from shared glances and little smiles. The connection between us filled up the entire room.

And I wasn’t the only one that noticed.

“Seriously,” Avery finally said to her brother. “Can you just get her number and be done with it? All this staring and smiling. I’m pretty sure I’ve earned the right to be the center of attention today and you guys are totally messing with that.” She held her baby close to her chest and looked into his face. “I don’t know—maybe you’ve earned the right to be the center of attention today,” she cooed in a sing-songy voice. “But not these two silly love birds, huh? We need to put them in separate rooms so the rest of us don’t have to breathe in the hearts and stars and rainbows and magical ponies that are filling the air around them. Yes we do.”

Travis cleared his throat. “Sorry, Av. I promise I’m all yours from now on.”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up. Just get her number before we go upstairs.”

“Actually, we’re just about ready to take you up,” I said. “Everything’s all set.”

“Then this is goodbye?”

I glanced at Travis. “Hopefully not forever. But for now.”

On the way to the elevator, he fell into step beside me and pulled out his phone. “What do you say?”

I reached for it so I could plug my number into his contacts before handing it back. “I’d say . . . I hope you don’t wait that long to call me.”

* * *

An hour later, on my lunch break, my cell phone rang—a number I didn’t recognize.

My heart started hammering as I unlocked the phone and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Do you know if it’s against the rules to have cell phones on the fifth floor?”

I smiled. “Had to call down here to ask that, huh?”

“Well, I mean, you’re the smartest nurse I know. Your opinion definitely holds more weight than . . . what’s our nurse’s name again?”

“Jessica,” I heard Avery say through the phone.

“Than Jessica’s,” Travis repeated.

“I know Jessica. You better not give her any trouble.”

“Uh-oh, multi-floor camaraderie, huh? I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior.”

“Oh, you should be. I’ve got eyes all over this hospital.”

“What time are you off work? Can I call you again?”

There was something completely adorable about his eagerness. He wasn’t over eager, just, excited. And not afraid for me to know it.

“I’m off at seven, and yes. Please call. Don’t neglect your sister though. Not if she needs you.”

“I doubt she’ll feel neglected. Now that the baby is here, a flock of friends has descended, and I’ve taken to hiding in the bathroom. Too much estrogen in the room.”

“Says the man who witnessed the birth of his nephew not three hours ago.” I balled up the wrapper from my sandwich and shoved it into my bag.

“I witnessed no such thing, thank you very much. I was facing the other direction, you might remember. No witnessing of any kind occurred.”

I laughed. “Fine, but don’t pretend like you didn’t love being in there. I saw you get all teary eyed when you held him.”

He grumbled. “So how about that game last night? You a Panthers fan?”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Nope.”

“Dang, me neither. I was hoping you’d have something manly to say so I wouldn’t have to.”

“I promise the tears didn’t hurt my opinion of you.” I peeled my orange, wishing I had more than two more minutes of my lunch break.

“No?”

“Pretty sure they gave you some big time bonus points.”

“Like . . . kiss on the first date kind of bonus points?”

Oh my word, flirting was fun. It had been a while and the energy of it all felt fantastic. “Hmm. I have to get back to work.”

“Ohhhh,” he groaned. “You can’t leave me hanging after a line like that. That took real courage.”

“You haven’t even asked me out yet, and you’re talking about kissing?”

“Friday night.”

“Friday night.”

“Text me your address?”

“Will do.”

“I’m glad I met you, Lilly.”

I closed my eyes and held my phone against my chest. This seriously wasn’t happening. After such a rocky start with Travis, it was the last thing I’d ever expected my day to include. “I’m glad you met me, too.”

Chapter 6

Trav

“So it’s a date then.” Avery held her baby close, her cheek resting on the top of his fuzzy head. Her friends had said goodbye so it was back to just the two of us.

“Friday night. Where do you think I should take her?”

“Mmm. Go to Nine Mile. And order garlic bread. With the rose sauce. And then get the bacon wrapped scallops. Man, I’m hungry. Is it dinner time yet?”

“You finished lunch less than an hour ago.”

“Yeah, but it was hard work bringing this guy into the world. And I didn’t eat for the entire twenty-nine hours leading up to it.”

“Okay, fine. In all of Asheville, what do you want to eat the most right now?”

She smiled all the way up to her eyes. “You’re going to go get me food?”

“I’m going to go get me food. If you’re nice I’ll bring something back for you.”

“Like . . . name my baby after you nice?”

Dang it. “You get to play that card, huh? I’ll let it slide this time, but you are not allowed to pull baby Trav into the bribing game anymore after this.”

My cell phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my pocket, hoping for something from Lilly. My heart lurched. Not Lilly. Darcy.

I’d been so wrapped up with Avery (and Lilly) I hadn’t spent much time thinking on our text exchange from the night before. But it wasn’t insignificant. She hadn’t been really specific, but it had seemed like she missed me. Like maybe she even regretted our breaking up. Avery would hate it if she knew. 

DARCY: Hey. I heard Avery had her baby. Tell her congrats for me. Are you free this weekend? I was hoping we could get together. I think we have a lot to talk about.

I dropped onto the chair beside Avery’s bed and stared at the screen.

“What is it?” Avery asked.

I looked up and ran my hand across my face. I couldn’t lie to her. “It’s Darcy. She says congrats.”

“That’s it? Your face doesn’t look like that’s it.”

“She wants to talk.”

“Oh no no no.” Avery shifted baby Travis from one shoulder to the other. For having been a mom all of three hours, she already looked like a pro. “She does not want to talk.”

I held up the phone. “It says so right here.”

“She might have said talk. I’m pretty sure what she really means is pull out your heart and stomp on it a little more. Please tell me you aren’t going to say yes.”

“What’s wrong with talking? Maybe she just needs closure or something.”

Avery just stared, her face frozen in shock. “I can’t even believe you just said that. You don’t think she got closure when she walked out on your relationship without a backward glance? She’s not good for you, Trav. You’re finally moving on. Don’t let her stop you.”

“It’s just talking, Avery.”

She huffed. “What about Lilly?”

“What about her? This doesn’t have anything to do with her.”

“But it totally could, if you let it. It could screw up the potential for something really good. Let Darcy go.”

I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Avery was right. I did need to let her go. I didn’t respond to Darcy’s text.

But I didn’t delete it either.

* * *

I sat in my car around the corner from Lilly’s house and tapped out a message.

ME: I’m ten minutes early. Can I come knock already or do you need me to wait?

Her response came through immediately.

LILLY: Knock??? Who is this?

I hesitated. She couldn’t have actually forgotten. Could she have? My fingers hovered over my screen, not sure how to respond. If she was joking and I didn’t get the joke, I might look stupid. If she wasn’t joking and I assumed she was, I might look like a creep.

Finally, I pulled up a picture Avery had texted me earlier—Uncle Travis with baby Travis. Playing the doting uncle card couldn’t hurt my chances. Before I could hit send a knock sounded on my window.  I looked up to see Lilly standing outside the car. Her eyes were bright above a dark gray scarf that was wrapped around the entire lower half of her face.

When I smiled, she moved around the car and climbed into the passenger seat. She pulled off her scarf. “You did know I was joking, right?”

“I . . . mostly knew you were joking. Sorry. I should have come to your door. I was just trying to figure out how to respond.” I handed her my phone, the picture pulled up. “I was about to send you this.”

“Oh my word! The two of you together are so adorable.”

“I thought so too.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “How’s Avery doing?”

“She seems great. She says she feels good.”

“How’s the baby eating? Is he sleeping for her?”

“Um, good? I guess? I know she, um . . .” I squirmed in my seat. There were technical terms for what I was trying to say. And Avery hadn’t hesitated to throw them at me, telling me I had better not wimp out. But I couldn’t remember anything she’d said. “The um, the milk is good?” Oh sheesh. “No! Not good. I mean, I wouldn’t know. I just mean, she has some.”

Lilly froze and smiled. “You had to work hard on that one, huh?”

“Shut up. She’s my sister. It’s weird. Plus, I don’t know all the terms and stuff.”

“It’s okay. I’m following. Her milk is in, and baby is eating great, yeah?”

I stared at the ceiling, wondering why I’d started a conversation about my sister’s boobs. “It’s pretty much all he does. Like it’s impossible for me to be over there without Avery just pulling . . .” I started to gesture, but no good was going to come from it. “Can we change the subject? Please?”

Lilly laughed. “Does it help to know it’s totally normal?”

“What, the baby eating all the time? Or how uncomfortable I am right now?”

She grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “Both? I promise it’ll ease up in a couple of months. Will you tell her to call me if she has any questions? Or if there’s anything I can do?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that a typical thing you nurses do?”

“No, but neither is dating a patient’s brother. Plus, I like Avery. And her baby is really cute.”

“Yeah? I think I remember you telling me in the hospital you thought he looked like me.”

“I did say that. It’s true. Though, you wear facial hair way better than the baby.”

My shoulders shook with silent laughter. It was going to be a good date.

Chapter 7

Lilly

He looked good. I mean, the guy made tired, scruffy, I-slept-in-a-hospital-recliner-all-night look good. So of course, all niced up for a date was far from disappointing.

My cell phone buzzed with a text notification and I slipped it out of my pocket. “Sorry. This is my friend—she’s actually on her way into town tonight.”

“Yeah? Do we need to reschedule?”

“Oh no! I’m good. She won’t be in until after ten—she’s driving and with the weather all crappy, it’s taking her forever.” I pulled up my camera. “Here—take a picture with me? I’ve told her about you so let’s give her some photographic evidence.”

He took the phone and held it out in front of us, reaching over to wrap his other arm around me. “Talking about me already, huh?” he said. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

We smiled and he tapped the capture button then handed me the phone. I pulled up the picture.

“How does it look?”

I smiled. “We look good.” I texted him the picture.

He pulled it up on his own device. “You look amazing. I look like a guy that has really good luck.”

“So where are you taking me, Mr. Lucky?”

He shifted the car into gear. “Nine Mile over in Montford. You know it?”

“I know the Nine Mile right down the street. There’s one in Montford too?”

His face fell. “There’s one right down the street?”

I pointed out the window. “Um, right there, actually.”

“We’re just going to pretend we didn’t see that one. You good with that?”

I laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

“I picked Nine Mile at Avery’s recommendation, and she only mentioned the Montford location and then I didn’t connect when you said you were in West Asheville . . .” He sighed. “Sorry. I’m not actually very good at stuff like this.” He looked sheepish and uncomfortable and it was totally adorable.

“I think you’re doing just fine. And you’ll love Nine Mile. The food is great.”

He pulled onto the freeway. “So your friend’s coming in town?”

“Yes! My best friend, Emma. She’s a musician up in Cleveland but they cancelled her concert this weekend so she decided to brave the roads and drive home. Her sister’s birthday is tomorrow and she wants to surprise her.”

“Sounds fun. Is she staying with you?”

“Tonight, yes. She’ll be with her family tomorrow night.”

The questions kept coming. How did Emma and I meet? How long had we been friends? Did I like living in Asheville? Did I have any siblings? He was easy to talk to and seemed like he really cared what my answers were. Like it wasn’t a game. No trying to impress or playing it cool. He was just interested. And he wasn’t afraid for me to know it.

“What about you?” I asked him. “Did you grow up around here?”

“Born and raised,” he said. “Growing up, I always thought I’d want to leave. I went to school in California, at Berkeley, and it was great out there. But I missed the mountains. With my job I can pretty much work from wherever I want and I wanted easy access to east coast hiking. So I came back.”

“Yeah? What kind of work do you do?”

He scratched his beard and gave me a sideways look. “You have to promise me it won’t be a deal breaker.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Done. As long as you aren’t a pimp. That would definitely be a deal breaker.”

“Ha! No. Not a pimp. But girls sometimes think my work is . . . juvenile. Like it’s just an excuse to play games all day.”

“Games. Video games?”

He nodded. “I’m a game developer. Have you ever seen Vision Studios? Over on Patton and Hilliard?”

“Oh yeah, with the big arch over the door, right?”

“That’s it. There’s just two of us, and we’re still in the toddler stage of business development, but things are going pretty well.”

“So what does game developing mean? Is it different than designing?”

“Yeah. The guys who design the games come to us with their vision and we write the code that makes it happen. And we don’t necessarily just do games. We just finished up a training simulation for a driving school in north Asheville, and we’ve done instructional animation for video tutorials. The games are the most fun though.”

I tilted my head and looked at him. “It sounds amazing. It’s really been a deal breaker before?”

He pulled into a parking spot on the street just past the restaurant and shifted into park. His jaw was tight and he kept his eyes forward. “Just once.” He opened his car door. “You ready to go?”

Okay. Touchy subject. “Sure.”

When I opened my car door, I found a threatening patch of ice that stretched all the way up to the curb. I’d have to step wide to miss it—so wide, I wasn’t sure I’d not land on my butt. Travis rushed over and offered me a hand. He braced himself against a light pole and stretched his arm out, holding onto me as I navigated my way across the ice.

“Next time, remind me to park somewhere that isn’t a hazard to your health.”

I squeezed his hand and held it up. “If you let me keep this, I’ll forgive you.”

It was the first time we’d really touched since our initial handshake, except for his arm around me in the car, and that was through bulky coats and stuff. This was skin on skin and it felt pretty fantastic. His hand tightened around my fingers. “I won’t say no to that.”

The ease of our conversation continued through dinner. Everything felt easy. Almost too easy. I half wondered if any minute he’d tell me something that would bring everything crashing down.

It’s not like he was perfect. His table manners were kind of terrible. He ate like he was in a race and all the food was going to be gone if he didn’t get to it first. And he tended to get lost inside topics he was really passionate about—hiking, gaming, craft beer drinking—going on and on without taking a breath. But it was more endearing than it was annoying. He was so completely self-aware, making fun of himself every step of the way. All his quirks really just made me like him more.

But there was one hard question I wanted to ask. After our dessert plates were cleared, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms.

He gave me a questioning look. “What? You look serious all of a sudden.”

“I’m getting ready to ask you a serious question.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

I took a deep breath. “You said your profession had been a deal breaker before.”

He sank back into his chair, mirroring my position, arms crossed across his chest. “Yeah?”

“I could tell by the way you talked about it, it was a big deal. Were you in love?”

He sighed, but nodded his head. “Yeah. I thought we were.”

“Was it recent?”

He shifted and ran his hands over his hair. “So many questions.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry, except I totally do mean to pry. It’s important. Knowing what you’ve been through. Where you’re coming from. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you my history too if you want.”

He studied me for a second, then his lips turned up in a half smile. “You say exactly what you’re thinking, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “Not always. But why make things more complicated than they need to be? I like you. I just want to get to know you better.”

He forced out a breath. “Her name was Darcy. We broke up four months ago. We were together for almost two years.”

Yeesh. Four months was not a lot of time after a relationship that long. “That’s not very long ago. Bad break up?”

His eyes darkened and he shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m not very good at talking about this kind of stuff.”

He looked wounded. Like a puppy that had been kicked into a corner. Whatever this girl did to him, it wasn’t good. I reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We can talk about something else.”

He looked at me then, his eyes genuine and warm. “She screwed me up pretty bad, Lilly. But I’m coming out of it. I can’t tell you I’m completely over everything, but . . . I can tell you things are looking up.” He took my hand. “Especially now.”

Part of me was scared. I really liked this guy and didn’t want to be a rebound. And I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between he and Darcy. But the honesty was nice. And the chemistry between us was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It was a gamble, sure. But I wanted to be all in. I smiled and motioned my head to the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter 8

Trav

She liked me.

I mean, she’d told me flat out. She’d been open and friendly and flirty and didn’t play all coy and hard to get. And she listened. That was maybe the best thing of all. How she genuinely seemed interested in my work and my hobbies and whether or not I really did think the garlic bread dipped in rose sauce was the best thing I’d ever tasted.

That she didn’t freak out over my d4. 3amaged past with Darcy was an added bonus. She seemed cool with just about everything. Not high maintenance. Not stressed. Just, confident and happy and chill.

We drove back to her apartment and I parked on the street, this time right at the foot of the front walk that led up to her house. “Cool house,” I told her.

“Thanks. I just moved in. It’s funky and old and the kitchen is totally retro, but I like that part. That they didn’t just gut the house to make it modern. Whoever remodeled worked with the old feel.”

“Sounds awesome.”

“You want to come in and look around?” Her eyes locked on mine. “I mean, Emma will be showing up any minute, but, it’d be fun to have your company until she does.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

The inside of her house was cool. Old bricks, high ceilings, plaster walls, old school crown molding. “This place is awesome.”

“Isn’t it? Now I just need to find a roommate.”

“It won’t be hard. Not with a place like this. And not in West Asheville. Isn’t everyone begging to live around here?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want just anybody. I keep hoping Emma will change her mind about Ohio and move home. But it’s a pipe dream. She’ll never do it.”

I picked up a picture from the bookshelf. Lilly, and another girl, flanked by two guys on either side. “Is this her?”

Lilly looked over my shoulder. “Yeah. That was prom.” She pointed at the guy beside Emma. “Grayson. Her high school boyfriend. And that’s Ryan.”

“So you do have a history.”

She snorted. “Hardly.”

I put the picture back on the bookshelf and sat on the couch. “Hardly?”

She sat beside me, and turned sideways, kicking off her shoes before pulling her feet up under her. “Ryan was my boyfriend from my junior year of high school until half way through my senior year of college.”

“That sounds a lot more than hardly. That’s a long time.”

She shrugged. “Well, yeah, but he’s pretty much the only boyfriend I’ve ever had. I mean, I’ve dated since then. I just haven’t met the right guy.”

Until now. The words hung between us, unspoken, but her eyes reflected the same certainty I felt. This thing between us—it was good.

I shifted and turned so we were facing each other, propping my elbow up on the back of the couch. I wanted to kiss her. Bad. I swallowed the hard lump of nerves that had formed in the back of my throat and dropped my gaze to her lips. “I, uh . . .”

She smiled and leaned forward, a whisper on her lips. “I know.”

I reached up, wrapping my hand around the base of her neck and moved to close the distance between us when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

Lilly jumped back, her hand flying to her chest and her eyes wide. “That must be Emma.”

Great. Emma.

“Sorry. I really wanted to . . . but I haven’t seen her in months and . . . where are my shoes?”

“They’re under the coffee table. Here.” I pulled them and nudged them in her direction.

She shoved them on and rushed to the front door. “Stay a minute, will you?” she called over her shoulder. “I want you to meet her.”

* * *

Emma was great. Maybe not as great as it would have been to actually kiss Lilly, but all and all, I wasn’t disappointed with how the evening went. And it had been nice to see Lilly and Emma together. She was the same person with her as she was with me, which made me think I was seeing the real Lilly. Authenticity was important.

Just before midnight, after I’d left her and Emma to their catching up, Lilly sent me a text.

I’m glad you got to meet Emma, but I’m sorry we were interrupted.

Yeah. Me and her both.

Schedule a do over? I texted back.

Her response was immediate. Yes, please.

I smiled into the darkness of my room.

Buster stuck his head in my bedroom door. “Yo, you still up?”

“Yeah, man, what’s up?”

“How was your date?”

“Good, actually.”

“Yeah? You really like her?”

I wrinkled my brow. These were not Buster-esque questions. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then I’m not excited to give you this.” He walked in and dropped a box on the foot of my bed.

“What is it?”

“I think it’s a pie. It smells like one, anyway. Darcy brought it over earlier.”

“Darcy? She was here?”

“Yeah, man. She said something about you not answering her texts. There’s a card, I think.”

I sat up and reached for the pie box. So Darcy really was serious about wanting to talk. Save that first conversation we’d had the night before baby Travis was born, I hadn’t responded to her messages. I was preoccupied with Lilly and helping Avery out, and . . . mostly I just wasn’t sure what to say to her.

I opened the card.

Travis- I realize you have far more reasons to ignore me than you do reasons to respond. I’m so sorry I hurt you. Can you give me the chance to explain? I’ve been rethinking things. And I miss you. Remember the restaurant from our first date? We had blueberry pie for dessert. I remember how much you loved it. It was hard to convince them to sell me an entire pie, but when I explained how important you were to me, they finally relented. I hope you’ll forgive me. Love, Darcy

Buster dropped into my desk chair. “What does it say?”

I handed him the card and pushed my head into my hands.

“Dude, that’s pretty intense.” He tossed it back onto the bed.

“It wasn’t blueberry pie.”

“What?”

“The pie. It wasn’t blueberry. She had blueberry pie. I ordered Lemon Chiffon. Which is a stupid thing to remember except she doesn’t like lemon and she acted all weird when I ordered it instead of the blueberry she insisted was the best thing she’d ever tasted.”

“That is a weird thing to remember.”

“History according to Darcy. I really wished I’d have recognized that as the first clue to what was coming. Order the pie I want you to order. Wear the clothes I want you to wear. Have the job I want you to have.”

Buster stared, expressionless. “Yeah, she was pretty much psycho. Glad to see you’ve figured that out.”

I read over the card one more time. There was an undertone of sincerity, even if she’d gotten the pie wrong. Darcy wasn’t good at apologizing. That she’d managed the words I’m sorry in any form was pretty impressive.

Buster stood. “This means you’re not going to eat the pie, right?”

I rolled my eyes and shoved it into Buster’s hands. “Here. Take it.”

He pulled a fork out of his pocket and opened the box, shoveling out an impressive first bite.

“Seriously? You brought a fork?”

“I’ve been smelling that thing all night.” Crumbs fell from his mouth as he shoveled in another bite. “This is really good pie.”

I stared at my ceiling for over an hour before I finally managed to fall asleep. I’d hoped not responding to Darcy’s texts would be enough to consider the situation handled, but she wasn’t backing down. I needed to talk to her. Confront her. Clear the air between us so there wasn’t any doubt about where I stood.

Trouble was, I didn’t know where I stood. I wanted to be over Darcy and ready to completely let her go, especially when I thought about how great stuff felt with Lilly. But she still had her claws in. And I had no idea how to get them out.

Chapter 9

Lilly

“When are you going to see him again?” Emma shifted her pose, rotating then standing up, her arms stretched far over her head. She looked up at the ceiling, her dark waves tumbling down her back. I probably should have gotten out of bed and done some yoga with her, but I was so warm. And my bed was so comfortable. Sure, I could have joined her then, but…

I yawned. “I don’t know. Soon, I hope.”

“No date scheduled?”

“No. I thought about going by his office this week. Just to say hello and see the place.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Friendly, but not as pushy as showing up at his house. It could be a good thing.” She folded herself into a downward dog.

“How’s your love life?” I turned my head sideways to try and catch her line of sight. “Any good things happening?”

“Ha,” she scoffed. “Yeah, no. Unless you count my associate conductor flirting with me after rehearsal every day.”

“Is he cute?”

“No. I mean, yes, maybe? He’s . . . older.” Up dog. I was tired just watching. People shouldn’t move like that in the morning.

“I don’t know how old Travis is. I guess I should ask.”

“I thought he seemed pretty close to our age,” Emma said. “Maybe a year or so older.”

I finally sat up, but kept my legs under my blankets. “Really truly what did you think of him?”

Emma finished her sun salutation and smiled. “Really truly, I think he seems really great.” She collapsed onto the foot of my bed, stretching out full length. “I’m happy for you, Lil. You deserve someone really great.”

* * *

The next couple of days I spent most of my time with Emma and her family. But that didn’t stop Travis and me from an almost constant stream of texts. We talked about everything. And I mean, everything. Our childhood fears. The sports we played growing up. Our siblings and parents and grandparents and cousins. He told me about his aversion to olives. I told him about my first kiss behind the dumpster of the bowling alley the summer before eighth grade. He told me how much he loved dogs, but was terrified of horses. I told him about the first time I’d been present for a stillborn delivery and how much I’d struggled to hide my tears. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t say. In fact, it felt like I knew him better after just a couple of days than I did most people after weeks of interacting. There was no hesitation, no fear I might say the wrong thing or ask the wrong question.

The only thing we didn’t talk about was Darcy.

I tried, more than once to bring her up, but he was dismissive. Quick to change the subject, normally with some sort of compliment or witty phrase. He never avoided answering anything I asked him. Unless it was something about her.

Though we’d made plans to go out the following weekend, I decided Wednesday was a great day to stop by and see him at work. Casual-like. Because I happened to be walking downtown. To see a friend that works at the pet store right up the street. Not because I’d spent hours agonizing over what to wear or what to say or whether or not it would be weird to take him a slice of cheesecake from the Chocolate Lounge.

I ended up getting the cheesecake. If I’d learned anything on our first date, I’d learned he liked his food.

When I opened the door, a guy that was very much not Travis looked up from his desk. He was the only person in the office. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Um, hi. I’m looking for Trav. Is he around?”

He pushed his chair back from his desk with enough force, he rolled several feet across the smooth, wood floor. When he came to a stop, he was right in front of what appeared to be a hallway, leading back to the right. He looked down the hall and yelled. “Hey, Trav. Somebody’s here to see you.” He looked back my way. “It’s a girl,” he added.

The guy walked his chair back up to his desk without getting up, which made him look a little like a crab. A very lazy crab. “Are you Lilly?”

I guess it was good to know Travis had mentioned me. “I am. Are you Buster?” Trav and I had just texted back and forth about his business partner/roommate/best friend the night before. The guy looked exactly like I pictured him, down to the Minecraft t-shirt and black rimmed glasses. If such a thing existed as a video game designer stereotype, Buster was totally it.

“The one and only,” he said, his eyes already focused back on his computer screen.

Hurried footsteps sounded down the hallway, then Trav stumbled into the room. “Please tell me he didn’t say anything stupid.”

I grinned. “Not so far.”

“It’s not too late,” Buster said. “I know all kinds of good stories, Lilly. Like the time Trav . . .” His words trailed off when Trav smacked him in the back of the head as he walked by. He crossed the office and stopped right in front of me, a broad smile on his face.

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Hi.”

Swoon. “Hi. I, um, I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d stop by and say hello.” I held up the bag from The Chocolate Lounge. “I have cheesecake.”

“That’s awesome. Can you stay a while?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, a few minutes. I’m supposed to meet a friend, but she’s in a meeting so I’ve got a little time to kill.”

He reached forward and squeezed my hand. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

It was semi-awkward, what with Buster fifteen feet away, but there was a sweetness to his gesture that made my heart get all melty. All our texting had created this familiarity between us, but being together in person still felt new and completely unnerving.

I took a deep breath. “So this is where all the magic happens.”

The office was sparse—modern to the point of feeling utilitarian, with only two desks pushed up against opposite walls. But it was clean and organized, had good light and enough room that if the business continued to grow, expansion wouldn’t be an issue.

“This is pretty much it, for now. But we’ve got room to grow.” Trav pulled me toward his desk. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

Trav’s desk looked more like a control room at NASA than it did an individual work station. Multiple screens and keyboards and other computer looking stuff I couldn’t identify covered the u-shaped set up.

He pulled out his chair and swung it around. “Here. Have a seat.”

I leaned back into the soft leather. It was really comfortable—a necessity, I guess, when you spend most of your work day sitting in it. Trav leaned over me, reaching for the mouse on the desk. He clicked on a series of icons and suddenly the screen was filled with what looked like an airplane hangar.

‘Is this what you’ve been working on? The hostile alien invasion one?”

“I just finished the opening storyboard. Want to watch?”

His voice was close to my ear and I felt myself shift sideways, trying to close the little bit of distance between us. His arm bumped against my shoulder. I felt the warmth of him, smelled the spicy man-ness of him. It left me with a sudden and driving need to kiss him. I cleared my throat, forcing my focus onto the computer screen in front of me. “Yeah. I’d love to watch.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d watched the stage-setting opening scenes of a video game, but watching knowing Trav had created the entire thing was a very cool experience. When it was over, he turned around and sat on the corner of the desk so we were facing each other.

“What did you think?”

I grinned. “I think it’s amazing. I can’t believe you can create all of that just from writing a little bit of code.”

“More like writing a holy crap ton of code, but I get what you’re saying.”

“Well whatever it is, I’m thoroughly impressed. It’s very cool what you do.”

He stood up and reached for my hand, pulling me up beside him. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, still holding onto my hand.

The longer we stood there, holding hands and staring at each other, the more keenly I felt Buster’s presence. If he wasn’t sitting behind us, I had no doubt Trav would have been kissing me. I’d never wanted a person out of a room quite so much.

“I’m kinda wishing we were alone right now,” Trav said, his voice low.

“Yeah?” I dropped my eyes, the nerves from earlier blooming in my belly with renewed force.

“I think I’d probably kiss you if we were.” Trav took a step closer and reached for my other hand, rubbing his thumb slowly across my knuckles.

Behind us, Buster pushed noisily away from his desk. “I think I’ll find somewhere else to be.” He stomped down the hall muttering something about office hours and getting work done and no girls every showing up to make out with him on the average workday.

I tried not to laugh. “He seems really nice.”

Trav rolled his eyes. “If he wasn’t such a genius, I’m not sure I could stand the guy. But he’s the real brains behind what we do. I couldn’t do it without him.”

“That’s humble of you to say.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’d never say it to him.”

As we talked, he pulled me closer and closer until finally my hands were pressed against his chest and our faces were mere inches apart.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this for days,” he whispered.

I licked my lips. “Yeah, it’s pretty much the only reason I came over here.”

“Not cheesecake?”

“Not at all. But it was a pretty convincing cover story, yeah?”

One arm slid around my back, pulling me tightly against him and the other brushed across my cheek before cupping my face in his palm. When his lips finally touched mine, my knees literally went weak. I’d always thought it was just an expression, but no. I lived it—had to grip his elbows to keep myself from going down.

When we broke apart, the only thing I could say was, “wow.”

Seconds later, the bell on the door chimed. Travis stepped back, placing enough distance between us that a client wouldn’t feel like they’d just interrupted a make-out session. When he turned to see who’d come in, he froze, his face going stony and cold.

I tried to squeeze his hand, but he dropped it and moved away, creating even more distance between us, like he was suddenly ashamed to have been standing so close. I mean, I get propriety and everything, but, still.

The woman that came through the door finally spoke. “Travis.” She turned her attention to me and gave me a once-over. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“What are you doing here?”

The edge to his voice could only mean one thing. The woman standing in front of us was Darcy.

She was pretty, in a perfectly polished kind of way. Hair, nails, make up. Coordinating jewelry and shoes and purse. There wasn’t a single thing about her that was out of place or out of style or out of . . . anything. I might have been intimidated, but everything about her seemed so . . . frigid. She was exactly the kind of person I would never want to be friends with.

“I came to see you. After all the texting, I really felt like it was time we sit down and talk in person.”

Text messages? The thought of Trav having conversations with his ex-girlfriend at the same time he was texting me suddenly made me feel ill.

Darcy walked across the office and stopped at the corner of Trav’s desk. She gave me a pointed look. “So I guess you’ve been hiding something from me.”

Ohhh, the girl was making me mad.

Trav finally moved, rubbing his fingers through his hair and across his beard. “I’m not hiding anything. This is my friend, Lilly. Lilly, Darcy.” It was the lamest introduction I’d ever experienced. I mean, I didn’t exactly expect him to say girlfriend, but his extra emphasis on the word friend made my stomach sour. I could still feel the tingle of his kiss on my lips and he was emphasizing friend? In front of his ex-girlfriend he was supposed to be over but still refused to talk about?

Yeah. Time to bail.

Chapter 10

Trav

Lilly grabbed her purse off my desk. “I’m gonna go.” She pushed past me.

I reached for her arm. “Lilly, wait . . .”

She turned, but kept moving, backing toward the door. “It looks like you guys have some catching up to do. It’s fine. It’s time for me to meet my friend anyway.”

“Can I call you?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you can call me.”

Darcy smirked at her as she passed. I couldn’t see Lilly’s face, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the irritation she was feeling. And I was the idiot that was watching her walk away. My feet finally caught up with my brain and I pushed after her, but Darcy stopped me, stepping into my path, her hands moving to my chest.

I stopped at her touch. Everything about her being so close was familiar—her scent, the way she pressed her fingers against me. But the familiarity wasn’t comfortable. Suddenly, it felt more like an assault. All the good feelings I’d ever associated with being close to Darcy were completely gone.

I caught one last glimpse of Lilly over Darcy’s shoulder as she hurried outside and up the sidewalk. This was not cool. So, so, so not cool.

I turned my attention back to Darcy. “Darcy, you need to go.”

She dropped her hands. “You’re not even going to give me a chance to talk?”

I sighed. “About what?”

She looked past me, her eyes training on something behind me and I turned. Buster stood in the doorway that led down the hall to the back rooms.

“Seriously?” Buster said. “Two in one day?”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s nice to see you too, Buster,” Darcy said, her tone dry.

“Whatever.” Buster disappeared back down the hall, yelling over his shoulder. “I’ll just be back here. Not working. Waiting for our office to be ready for working again.”

“Why is he always so grouchy?” Darcy asked.

Had Lilly asked the question, I might have laughed, said something about Buster’s less than congenial personality. But from Darcy, her words literally dripping with sarcasm and disdain, all they made me feel was defensive.

“Darcy, just tell me what you want. I really do need to get back to work.”

She took a step closer. “I think I’ve made that pretty obvious, Trav. I miss us. I know I hurt you, but I realize now I never should have.”

Had her words come a week ago, I might have given them five seconds of consideration. But I’d just seen her standing in the same room with Lilly, and the contrast between them was stark. Where Lilly was cool and calm and easy going, Darcy seemed critical and cold. I know I’d had feelings for Darcy—real ones. But comparing her to Lilly, it was hard to imagine how.“It’s too late, Darcy.” I took a step back.

She folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips. “You said she was just a friend.”

My eyebrows went up. “She is.” At least, I hoped she still was after the way I’d just treated her. “But I want her to be more than that. And you’re getting in the way.”

She frowned. “Seriously? After all we had, you’re willing to just walk away?”

“You managed that first.” I nodded. “And yeah, I am.”

I turned back to my desk and grabbed my jacket then headed for the door. Darcy just stood there, her feet frozen in place, her face tight.

“I don’t know what happened to bring you back here,” I said, “but I’m not the right man for you, Darcy. We both know it.” I shrugged into my coat then pushed out the door, not waiting for her response.

I texted Lilly from the corner, then kept walking, wanting to create as much distance as possible between me and Darcy. While waiting for Lilly’s response, I checked nearby restaurants and shops hoping I’d just find her, but my searching was in vain. She was gone.

And not responding to my texts.

And I was a complete jerk.

I trudged back to my office, hesitating at the door long enough to make sure Darcy was gone then pushed my way inside.

Buster looked up from his desk. “You so owe me.”

I dropped into my chair. “Was it bad?”

“She stayed for close to half an hour. Just sitting there at your desk. Finally I told her she had to leave or I was calling the cops.”

For real? I couldn’t fathom why she’d want to hang around that long. “What was she doing?”

“I have no idea. She wrote you a note or something. I tried to pay as little attention as possible.”

Sure enough, there was a note scribbled across the notepad that sat to the left of my monitor. I picked it up. It was only two lines long, and four of . . . twelve words were swear words. “Wow. It took her half an hour to write this?”

Buster looked up. “What’s it say?”

I walked to his desk and dropped the note. It fluttered down onto his keyboard where he snatched it up, reclining into his seat while he read. “You have to at least give her points for originality.” He handed back the note. “No luck finding Lilly?”

I shook my head, rubbing my hand across my beard.

“Then dude. Why are you still here? I may not have a ton of experience with women, but I’m pretty sure you’ve been an idiot today. Go fix it.”

Chapter 11

Lilly

“I don’t want to give him a chance to explain.” I paced back and forth across my living room, my cell phone gripped tightly in my hand. Emma was doing her best to talk me down, but I was annoyed. And hurt. And . . . annoyed.

“He had to be caught off guard by her showing up,” Emma said. “I’m just saying, if ever a guy deserves a little grace it’s when he’s confronted by his old girlfriend, in front of his new girlfriend.”

“I’m not his girlfriend. I’m his friend. He made that really clear.”

“Oh shut up. What would you have had him say? Declare his affection right there in front of her?” I stopped pacing and thought about Emma’s question. “I mean, what if he’d said you were his girlfriend?” she continued. “Wouldn’t that have freaked you out just as much?”

I unzipped my boots and dropped them onto the floor then sank onto the couch. “That’s just it. It wouldn’t have freaked me out. Because I really like this guy.”

“Then Lilly, you talk to him. You can’t let this guy get away.”

A knock sounded on my door. I moved to the window and peeked through the blinds. Trav’s jeep was parked just outside. My pulse started pounding.

“Yo. Lilly? You there?”

“I gotta go,” I whispered. “Trav’s here.”

I swung open the door. Trav stood there, looking all sheepish, deep furrows across his brow. “I’m an idiot,” he said, not even waiting for a hello. “Can I come in?”

I stood to the side while he walked past, then shut the door behind him. He stopped in front of the couch, but didn’t sit down. “I should have handled things differently today.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah?”

He took a step forward, but hesitated, like he didn’t really know what to do with himself. “I should have . . . but Darcy, she . . . I was just . . . surprised. But there’s nothing going on between us. There hasn’t been. For months.”

His discomposure was kind of adorable, but I wasn’t quite ready to give in. “If you could do it again what would you say?”

His eyebrows went up, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half smile. “I’d say . . . you’re ten times the woman Darcy could even dream of being.” His cell phone chimed and he winced. “I should . . . sorry. I probably need to look at that.”

Seriously? Right now? In the middle of his apology? I didn’t say anything, just watched as he reached for his phone.

“It’s just, I know it’s Avery. She has her own notification noise thingy so I’ll always know if she needs me and . . .” his words drifted off as he scanned the message.

My frustration waned as I saw the concern on his face.  I mean, the timing was maybe crappy, but he gave his sister her own notification sound. That was a good big brother. “Is she okay?” I finally asked.

“Um . . . I don’t think she is.” He handed me the phone. What do you think?”

AVERY:TravispleasecomeholdthisdemonoffspringsoIcanshowerandbreatheandforallthatisgoodandholypleasebringmeacheeseburger!

Another text popped up while I was holding his phone.

AVERY: I don’t really think the baby is demon offspring.

I smiled. At least this one had punctuation.

Another message.

AVERY: But I do want a shower.

AVERY: And a cheeseburger.

AVERY: Can you come?

“What do you think?” Travis asked.

“I think we need to take your sister a cheeseburger.” I handed him the phone, showing him the new messages. “And fast.”

He grinned. “We?”

I shrugged. “Come on. I’m kinda in the mood for a burger too.”

Things were quiet on our way to the burger place, the words he hadn’t quite said still hanging between us. Finally, the words just exploded from him, all awkward and clumsy.

“It’s more than ten times.” He gripped the steering wheel tight enough that I could see the tendons popping out on the backs of his hands. “I said you’re ten times the woman Darcy will ever be, but it’s more than that. More like twenty. Or a hundred, even.” He took one hand off the wheel and ran it across his beard. “I know it hasn’t been that long, but I think I’d really like it if you stick around.”

There wasn’t anything particularly graceful or eloquent about his words. Stick around? That’s the best he could do? His goofiness had its own brand of charm, but still. He had to give me more than stick around.

I reached for his hand, running my finger across the soft fabric of his flannel shirt cuff, visible below the sleeve of his coat. “Tell me why I should stick around.”

He worried his brow, deep creases stretching across his forehead, like I’d asked him a really tough question, but I held on. He pulled into the parking lot of the burger place and shifted into park, keeping his eyes forward. I could tell, he was trying hard not to look at me. When he finally did, there was a sincerity there I didn’t expect. “Lilly, I know I haven’t known you that long, but I’m already in love with you a little. Losing you would . . . I mean, it would really suck.”

Um, yeah. He was definitely worth sticking around for.

I leaned over and kissed him, sliding one hand inside his coat so it rested on his flannel-clad chest, and wrapping the other around his neck. I broke the kiss, then kissed along his jawline until my lips were close to his ear. “I think, after a line like that, I get to call you my boyfriend.”

He smiled. “I really think I’m okay with that.”

Epilogue

Trav

The couch slipped under my hands while Emma and Lilly cheered from inside the small apartment. Curse the narrow doorways in old Asheville houses.

“You can do it!” Lilly yelled again. “We made treats!”

I was happy for her that Emma was actually moving in. Not so happy that Emma’s couch weighed more than my jeep.

Buster moaned from the opposite end of the couch. “I have no idea why I let you talk me in to this.”

“Because Lilly brings you dessert as often as she brings it to me?” Sweat poured off my brow, but I wasn’t ready to give in. Not yet.

“Right here?” Emma pointed.

Lilly tapped her chin. “Or over there…”

Buster groaned again, but I laughed. That was my girl.

“Right here is just perfect.”  The couch dropped two feet inside the door, and I immediately sat, letting my head rest on the back. “Yep. Perfect.”

Lilly kicked my leg. “Oh, come on. We just have to slide it over now.”

“And maybe slide it again.” Emma smiled widely. “And thank you!”

“I’ve decided I work for kisses.” I reached out, grabbed Lilly, and pulled her onto my lap.

She pushed against me, but only for a moment. And then her familiar body rested against mine as her arms wrapped around my neck.

“Okay then!” Emma laughed as she dragged Buster toward the tiny kitchen. “We’re going to get the brownies.”

“Be there in a minute!” Lilly called. “Or five!”

“You know what next Tuesday is?” I asked.

Lilly’s brow wrinkled. “You think I’d forget your nephew’s first birthday?”

“Ha! You just did forget. His birthday is on Monday.”

She pushed off my chest. “That’s not fair!”

I pulled her back against me and grinned. “That makes Tuesday the anniversary of when I first asked you out.”

She harrumphed. “You only remember that because baby Trav’s birthday is the day before and Avery would kill you if you forgot that date.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But that doesn’t make me any less happy I asked.”

“And I said yes.” Her lips found mine, as her fingers curled into my hair. “I’m really, really glad I did.”

That makes two of us.

Chapter 1 of Emma’s story,

from the new novel, Love at First Note

Chapter 1

Moving back to North Carolina? Social suicide.

No. Not social suicide. More like dating suicide.

See, there were a few things that disqualified me from the general dog-walking, beard-growing, craft-beer-drinking collection of men West Asheville had to offer: I was allergic to dogs, I didn’t really like beards, and then the whole religion thing. Mormon girls and Southern boys didn’t always mix.

I’d only been in town two months when Lilly, my roommate and childhood best friend, and her boyfriend, Travis, made it their New Year’s resolution to try every single native beer brewed in Asheville before Christmas. That might not have been very hard had they started in January, but with only four months left in the year? Asheville hadn’t been named Best Craft Beer City three years in a row for nothing. The city grew microbreweries like Kansas grew corn.

It was a fine goal for Lil and Trav—something they enjoyed that they could do together. But had my boyfriend wanted to spend every date night touring breweries—

Oh wait. I didn’t have a boyfriend.

I tried not to dwell on my looming spinsterhood. I liked Asheville, even if the young single adults group didn’t reach double  digits. Growing up in a neighboring town, I’d always been a sucker for the city’s urban-y, eclectic charm. And it was the perfect place to set up my new violin studio. So it lacked available Mormon bachelors. At least the symphony was great, and I was closer to my family than I’d been in years—compensatory blessings, maybe?

When Lilly asked if I wanted to go in on renting the right side of a little house on Maple Crescent, it felt like a no-brainer. The house was perfect—tall ceilings, original hardwood floors, and bricks from 1924 in the kitchen wall. How do you say no to bricks from 1924? So I didn’t. I made West Asheville home. Even with my aversion to dogs, beards, and beer.

I was finally starting to feel settled when, on a late September Sunday just after sacrament meeting, Bishop Bradford called me into his office. “Emma, can I speak to you for a moment?” I glanced at my watch. If my Primary class was left alone too long, I had no doubt they’d stage a revolution. Whatever the bishop had to say, he’d better say it quick.

It occurred to me that maybe he wanted to see me so he could rescind my calling as the Sunbeam teacher. It wasn’t that I didn’t like three-year-olds, but I was clearly not cut out to teach them. The week before, I’d spent nearly half an hour scrubbing chocolate off the sleeve of my favorite Barbara Bui linen jacket—a New York City splurge I’d never regretted until hanging out with Mistress Chocolate Face and her grimy entourage. We hadn’t even eaten chocolate in class—it was like the sticky just oozed from their pores. I was not one to quit on the job, but I also wouldn’t have minded a change.

Bishop Bradford sat behind his desk and smiled. “Rose and I enjoyed your performance last night. It was a wonderful concert.”

I sat a little taller in my seat. “Thank you. I didn’t know you were there.”

“A coworker gave us tickets. We’d never been before, but we enjoyed it. Rose wants to go back.”

“I hope you do. We’ve got a great season this year.”

“So what does it mean, exactly, when it lists you as concertmaster in the program? Is that because you played the solo?”

I snuck a glance at my watch again, imagining the Primary president pacing the hall outside my classroom. “Um, no, it’s not . . . I mean, you do generally play the solos as concertmaster, if there happen to be any, but it’s more than that too. I lead the violin section and determine bowing gestures so we all move together as we play; I tune the orchestra before every performance, and if we have to audition new musicians, I help—” His eyebrows drew together, stopping me midexplanation. “Did I lose you?”

He nodded. “Somewhere around bowing gestures. Rose just told me it meant you were the best one. That sounds about right.”

A blush crept up my cheeks. There wasn’t really a graceful way to say it. Yes! Yes, I am the best! Thanks for noticing.

Bishop Bradford’s voice softened. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Emma. We were just proud to see you up there. Was this your first concert in the hot seat?”

I shook my head. “I played for a year as concertmaster in Cleveland before I moved home.” I tried not to think about my principal seat in the Cleveland Orchestra—a seat I’d been the youngest musician to occupy in more than forty years—or my former associates, many of them friends I’d known all the way through college. The only time I regretted my decision to move was when I spent too much time dwelling on the life I’d walked away from.

“Well, we sure did enjoy your performance last night.”

“Thank you,” I said again. Maybe this was all our little meeting was about: Congratulations on your lovely concert. Also, you’re going to teach Sunbeams for the rest of eternity.

Bishop Bradford smiled and leaned back in his chair. “So, I’ve got a favor to ask, if you’re willing—something I think will be of particular interest to you.”

Particular interest to me? Carry on, Bishop. You have my attention.

“I got an e-mail last night from a new ward member, someone moving to Asheville from out West. He’s set to arrive next week, and I thought you might be able to reach out and help him feel welcome.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, why me?”

“He’s young—in his twenties—so I thought it would be nice for another young person to welcome him. What’s more, he’s moving onto Maple Crescent.” He squinted at his phone. “Three Forty- Seven Maple Crescent. That’s your street, isn’t it?”

My brain felt too full of details as I struggled to process. He . . . young person . . . Maple Crescent. In other words, a young, potentially hot Mormon guy was moving into my neighborhood. I suddenly felt a little warm.

I lifted my long hair off my neck and slipped it into a ponytail. I’d worked all morning to tame my semi-wavy frizz into soft, smooth curls, and the ponytail was bound to ruin it, but it wasn’t like the Sunbeams were going to care. Though my first week on the job a little girl did ask why I didn’t make my hair blonde like her mommy instead of an “ugly, boring mud color.” Whatever. I wasn’t insecure enough to take fashion insults from a three-year-old seriously. Plus, I’d tried highlights once. They’d looked horrible under the stage lights—a little too much like my neighbor’s calico cat. I was happier sticking with my natural dark brown.

Another piece of the bishop’s details clicked into place in my brain. “Wait, did you say three forty-seven? I live at three forty-seven.”

“That’s what it says. I guess he could be mistaken.”

I shook my head. “No, there are two apartments in the house, and my neighbors moved out last week. I guess it makes sense, but wow. What are the odds?”

He smiled. “I guess saying hello will be easier than I thought.”

I never would have listed matchmaking as one of my bishop’s responsibilities, but I could tell from the gleam in his eye he’d asked me to welcome the new guy for a reason. I wasn’t surprised, really. I already felt like the ward project. Cousins, nephews, grandsons, grand-nephews, old mission companions—nearly everyone in the ward knew someone who was absolutely perfect for me. They all meant well—of course they all meant well. But all that had actually come to fruition were a few e-mails from a guy who had asked if I’d be willing to move to Tuscaloosa (Tusca-where?) and a blind date with Sister Parker’s grandson that had ended in Urgent Care after the guy had tripped on the curb and face-planted on the sidewalk. I probably should have been more sympathetic, but his nose bled all over my favorite shoes—Ralph Lauren linen and cork wedges, no less. There was no saving them, and the loss totally wasn’t worth it. I mean, the guy had made an actual snoring noise when I’d told him I liked classical music. As in, his head had lolled to the side, his eyes had closed, and he had snored.

With the ward’s matchmaking efforts going so well, it was hard to feel optimistic. But a glimmer of hope still sparked in my chest. I had never been an excitable, giddy girl. I was always the calm one, the one who read, the one who texted without ever using exclamation points. But a guy was moving to the barren wasteland of young single adults. And he was going to be my neighbor. No well-intentioned ward members necessary.

I wasn’t the greatest at meeting new people. My nerves were ridiculous, and I was a master at getting tongue-tied. But this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

I smiled at the bishop. “I’d be happy to reach out. He’ll be here next week? Do you know when exactly?”

He looked back at his phone and shook his head. “He wasn’t specific. I can forward his e-mail address to you if you’d like to ask him yourself, or I guess you can just keep an eye out your window. I’m sure you’ll notice the moving truck.”

I nodded. “Okay. And his name? With a little social media recon, I might be able to find the guy and know what to expect.”

“Elliott. Elliott Hart.”

Elliott Hart?

“Wait a minute. Elliott Hart? As in the Elliott Hart?” I definitely didn’t expect that.

The bishop gave me a funny look. “I didn’t know there was a the Elliott Hart.”

“He’s a pianist. Have you ever seen the show Talent Hunt?”

He shook his head no.

“It’s this television talent search thing. Elliott Hart won the entire competition a few years ago. He’s pretty big.”

“Famous? Really?”

“I mean, not like bring-bodyguards-with-you-to-church famous, but they did send him somewhere totally remote on his mission so he wouldn’t be recognized. He does these crazy videos—pianos in weird places—and his YouTube following is huge. But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Elliott Hart be moving to Asheville? Maybe it’s someone different.”

“I guess we’ll find out when he arrives. But wouldn’t that be nice? A musician—you would already have something in common.”

I still wasn’t going to get my hopes up. It was more likely we were dealing with a computer programmer from northern Idaho. A spelunker from central Wyoming. Or maybe a shoe salesman from Tuscaloosa. Elliott, the famous musician? What were the chances?

“I see what you’re thinking, Emma,” the bishop said. “I promise I’m not going to scheme and plan you into this young man’s life, but I do think you should keep an open mind. If God is trying to open a door, it’d be a shame to kick it closed before you even know what’s behind it.”

“No door closing. Got it.”

He smiled and stood. “You better hurry if you’re going to catch those Sunbeams.”

Sunbeams. Yay.

To read the rest of Emma and Elliott’s story, click here to purchase Love at First Note on Amazon.

Love at First Note.

Find Jenny’s other books on Amazon

Love at First Note

Mountains Between Us

The House at Rose Creek

Jenny Proctor loves to spend time in the mountains with her husband and their six very noisy but still spectacular children. They love hiking and splashing in creeks and finding old rope swings that will surely break any minute and send them careening into mountain-cold rivers. But also? Jenny loves hanging out at home, watching great movies or reading great books and eating delicious food that, when she’s lucky, someone else has cooked. Her novels, Whitney Award finalist The House at Rose Creek, (Covenant, 2013) Mountains Between Us, (Covenant, 2014) and Love at First Note, (Covenant, 2016) can be found on Amazon and at Deseret Book. To learn more about Jenny, visit her website at www.jennyproctor.com.

COPYRIGHT

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format or in any medium without the consent of the author, Jenny Proctor.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or are used fictionally.

Printed/Published in the United States of America by Jenny Proctor, May 2016.