Page 30 of Unruly

“There’s no mystery. There’s a hypothetical.”

Dawson exhales through his nose. “You want to know how to ask someone out when they’ve already said no.”

“In theory.”

“In theory.” He sets the hose down and crosses his arms. “Okay. In theory, you want to do something that shows her you actually mean it—flowers, maybe. Or find out what her coffee order is and show up with it. Something that says you pay attention. Women like that. They like to feel like you see them.”

I stare at him.

“Flowers?”

“Or coffee. Something personal.”

“You want me to show up with flowers?”

“I want you to consider the concept of a gesture, yes.”

“Dawson.” I look at him. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Flowers? She’s going to see me coming from a mile away, then tell me to go home and take the flowers with me.”

“That’s because you have the romantic instincts of a fence post,” Makai says, helpfully.

“Nobody asked you,” I snap back

“You literally asked us,” Makai corrects.

“I asked for advice, not a florist recommendation.” I look back at Dawson. “Is that really what you’ve got? Flowers and coffee? No wonder you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

Dawson’s jaw tightens slightly. “I’ve had girlfriends.”

“Name one.”

“That’s not⁠—”

“Name one, Dawson.”

“We’re not talking about me.”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about … Which is my point. Your advice is the advice of a man who has read about dating in a book but hasn’t actually done it.”

“At least I can handle rejection, unlike you,” Dawson says.

I push off the fence rail and head toward the equipment shed.

“Cash,” Dawson calls after me.

I look back.

“The flower thing wasn’t wrong,” he says. “You’re just too dense to know it yet.”

I leave without answering, because I refuse to give him that.

Behind me, I can hear Makai start laughing again.

This is why we don’t ask brothers for advice.

Even with Dawson’s useless advice, I still don’t have a better plan, and the sun is going down. So, I decide to go on a ride, telling myself that it’s just to clear my mind. Just a way to try and figure out how to convince Halle that I’m not a fucking kid.

The ranch falls away behind me, the road opens up, the engine climbs through its range, and for about thirty seconds, I stop thinking about anything at all.