Page 24 of The False Flat

I’d covertly ordered the cards from Amazon, something similar to the ones Deanna had that first disastrous night I’d gone over there. I couldn’t remember the exact name of what she’d had, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask. I’d found my own, a set with four and a half stars and 5,230 ratings that promised “150 Conversation Starters for Couples to Strengthen Their Relationship.” I’d broken out in a cold sweat after I’d ordered them, again when I was alerted they were out for delivery, and my whole body shook when I first took them out of the package.

Who buys this stuff?

But exposure therapy works, mostly. Every day for two weeks, I’d taken them out of the shoebox in the closet and made myself hold them.

Chad, in his slate button-down and crisp black slacks, leaned over and kissed down the side of my neck. “So, what are we doing?”

I hesitated, thinking maybe this was a bad idea, but Deanna had asked me if Chad had siblings. I didn’t know, and she couldn’t believe I didn’t know, and I couldn’t believe I didn’t know, and—we needed to do this, to get to know each other better.

I also needed to distract myself because tonight, he was not only meeting William, Deanna, and Grant, but I was meeting Deanna’s friends.

In the two weeks since Grant had shown up with matcha at my door, I’d gone on another ride with their bike crew. I adored William, who complemented Deanna in every way, and, to my surprise, Grant had also grown on me. He needed to lose the mustache, but he’d been nice enough and had taken the time to walk me through the concept of clipless pedals and shoe-pedal compatibility, which I hadn’t known were a thing. Best of all, Deanna and I had forged an unexpected relationship, building on what had apparently started that night at her house. We’d lunched multiple times. She randomly texted me. And after she’d seen my house—she’d insisted on seeing it—we went shopping, and she helped me decorate. I’d even heard her refer to me as her friend.

I liked the slow progression of incorporating someone into my life. And now, Chad was a part of that; at least I wanted him to be. He seemed especially important since my feelings for Grant were shifting. I liked spending time with him, and Grant was absolutely off limits for so many reasons, the chief being his girlfriend, Elaine, whom I’d be meeting tonight. No, the chief being, I wasn’t interested, no matter what other parts of my body seemed to suggest. Thank God for Chad was all I was saying.

I opened the box like a live tarantula was inside and yanked out a card, read silently, then aloud like a robot, “‘What’s one thing you think I could improve on?’”

For the first time, I needed to turn Chad into a number. It was the only way I was going to get through this. A smooth five. I hadn’t asked him; I’d asked a smooth five. The five rolled his eyes.

“You’re serious? You think a box of cards will help us ‘get closer’?”

He tried to kiss me again, but I shrugged him off.

“Fine,” he sighed. “What was the question again?”

I looked back down at the card I’d already memorized, repeated it.

He smirked, took the card out of my hand, slid it back into the box, and tossed the box onto the floor. It made a loud thud and then a swish as the cards fanned out across the hardwood.

“You know what you need to change, Pen Auberge? The fact that you have clothes on.” He pulled the tie on the side of my black wrap dress and slid his hand around my bare waist. “I have a better way for us to get to know each other.”

I stood, throwing him off balance, and pulled the dress—which matched his outfit—back around me. I didn’t know why I was surprised. This was how we worked. We connected in bed. And while it was amazing, we needed more. Didn’t we?

“We’ll be late if we try to do anything now.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “But we have time for a game?”

It wasn’t a game, but I didn’t argue. I wanted him to be in a good mood when he met everyone.

He bit his lower lip and let a sigh rumble up from deep in his throat. “Now that I’m here and we only have the weekend and you look so sexy, I want to keep you to myself. Why don’t you call Deanna and cancel?”

“Because I like Deanna. She’s important to me.” My tone was firm because I was irritated that he was trying to back out. “And she wants me to meet her friends.”

He shifted upward. “More important than me? You’ve known these people a handful of weeks, tops. Come on, Pen. You can’t possibly want to stay in Nashville, and these constant weekend flights are going to bankrupt me.”

He could make weekend flights for an entire year and barely touch his significant nest egg. I knew; I managed his money.

“If we’re going to be together,” he added, “then don’t you think it’s more important to focus on us?”

I wanted to bring up the cards, but I bit my tongue. I didn’t have a good answer for him. But I did know that Deanna had kept close even when I’d tried to push away. It was like she knew what I needed, like she sensed my desire under my reservation. Most people would’ve called me an ice queen and moved along. To be honest, I was a little giddy at the whole business, which is why I’d finally agreed to this evening. Simultaneously, it felt terrifying and good having a friend, even though under the surface doubt hummed, a constant reminder not to build anything too high, or the inevitable crash would leave scars.

“What if I said I wanted to stay in Nashville?” I ventured.

His jaw sprang shut, clenched. He didn’t want to believe me. Long distance was not working for him.

His face relaxed as he shifted off the bed and walked the three feet to me, then wrapped both his arms around my lower back and pulled me to him. “I’ll change your mind.”

His eyes were heavy lidded, and his mouth held a hint of a smile. He was banking on his sex appeal, which he had in spades, to woo me.