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My eyes widened. “He did?” I scrunched my nose. “But that can’t be right. If he were really that into me, he would have pushed harder for a date.”
The two women looked at one another, but neither of them said a word.
“What?” They still didn’t say anything. “Come on, tell me.”
Roxie spoke up, her voice soft. “Joy, sometimes you act a little bit cautious.”
Ava nodded. “It’s like you need a little bit of special handling, that’s all. I wouldn’t be surprised if Graham has picked up on that.”
I frowned. How could Roxie and Ava know I still sometimes got scared? I thought I hid that.
“Don’t take that the wrong way, Joy,” Roxie continued. “We’re not saying you’re a scaredy-cat or anything. Just that occasionally you get jittery if a door slams or something. It’s not a big deal. But Graham was the leader of a SEAL team. He’s trained to pick up on things like that. That might be the reason he’s going slow with you.”
“Huh.” I tilted my head as I thought about their words.
“But I bet you’re getting antsy, aren’t you?” Ava said with a gleam in her eyes. “Whenever I look at him, I can’t help but look at his forearms. I really go for muscled forearms.”
I grinned. “I never thought I was into that, but yeah, he’s muscly all over. He usually wears a tight T-shirt, and I get to see how his back looks. I just want to rub against it,” I admitted with a slow grin. “But there’s something worse.”
“What?” They both leaned forward.
“He’s nice!” I wailed.
Roxie almost doubled over with laughter.
“I don’t get it,” Ava said. “What’s wrong with nice?”
“Nice is kryptonite,” Roxie could finally spit out. “How is he nice?” she asked me.
“Besides buying Miss Laverne groceries, he pulls out Miss Laverne’s chair for her to sit down, and he always clears the table and loads the dishwasher because we’ve cooked. He’s just really nice.”
“Yeah. I get it now,” Ava nodded. “You’re screwed.”
“I give it two weeks before you go on a real date,” Roxie nodded sagely.
I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I was pretty sure she was right.
The sound of something loud hitting the side of the house ripped me from sleep, and I bolted upright.
What the hell?
My heart was racing a mile a minute.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and pressed in 9-1-1, so I’d be ready to push send if I needed to. After all, it was six-twenty-six AM, and this neighborhood was always quiet this time of the morning. I listened to the silence. Had I imagined it? I looked out the window.
A car door slammed.
“Where do you want this?” a man yelled.
“Over here,” another man yelled.
I heard and felt feet pounding up Miss Laverne’s porch steps.
How big was that guy?
Was he a gorilla?
He was practically shaking the house.