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Her breathing was shallow and I wasn’t sure if it was because she was out of breath from the scare of me crashing into her or if she was nervous. I was leaning toward nervous.
“I was going to see you.”
Her eyes brightened and a wide smile spread on her face. “Really? Why?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“Oh.” She ducked her head and slid a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.”
I stepped back inside and held the door open. “Did you want something to drink? Wine, or I could make you a Mai Tai.” That was her go-to cocktail at the bar.
“A Mai Tai, wow is this one of the perks of dating a bartender, not that we’re dating.” She quickly clarified as her eyes widened.
I tried not to let the fact that she’d backpedaled the dating comment affect me, but I had to admit that it stung. I’d been the guy from the wrong side of the tracks that women slummed it with on vacation and I didn’t want to be that with Cheyenne.
She never treated me like that, and she hadn’t seemed to mind that I’d kissed her in front of the boarding house and that we danced at the wedding. But still, that wasn’t dating.
She shifted from one foot to another as she bit the inside of her mouth. Now there was no question she nervous. I wondered if Billy had talked to her and upset her. Or maybe he hadn’t said anything, but someone else had. Or maybe she was upset about me asking her what color her panties were. I’d done it without thinking, but maybe I crossed a line. Jimmy had interrupted us before she’d had a chance to respond.
“I think I know why you were coming over to talk to me.”
“Okay.”
“And I’m sorry I sent it. I was just—”
“Sent what?” I interrupted her.
“The text.”
“What text?”
“You know about…what you said when we were dancing.”
“When I said that you are sweet, kind, funny, smart, hot, sexy—”
“No, after that,” she cut me off.
“When I said I wanted to know what color panties you had on?” Technically, I’d said that Tim had.
“Yes, that.”
“You sent me a text about that?” That information was not going to help my perma-boner situation.
“Yes, and when you didn’t answer me back, I thought you were mad at me. I couldn’t sleep so that’s why I came over…”
As she was talking, I pulled out my phone. The last text we’d exchanged had been the day of my mom’s birthday when I was running errands and asked her if she wanted me to pick us up sandwiches for lunch. She replied that her and my mom had already had pizza for lunch.
“You didn’t send me a text tonight.” I handed my phone to her so she could see the thread. “See.”
“But…” She shook her head in confusion and pulled her own phone out of her purse. “Maybe it didn’t go through,” she mumbled under her breath before sucking in a breath so sharp it made her cough as all the color drained from her face. “Oh my god! No!”
“What?”
“I didn’t send it to you.”
Oh fuck. My stomach sank. Billy was alphabetically close to Cash. Had she accidently sent a text about her underwear to her brother?
