Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Shane
“Ask her to be my girlfriend? Seriously? What are we, teenagers?” I grumble as I mix the pancake batter for breakfast.
It’s been thirty-six hours since I left Kinsley’s house after she told me the only way that we’re making shit official is by me asking her.
Since I had to work my shift yesterday and the station was slow, I had a lot of time to overthink this, and the only thing I’ve come up with is that it needs to be romantic because she’s a romance reader, and if my daughter has shown me anything, it’s that romance readers have high expectations when it comes to shit like this.
I let out a sigh of annoyance, at a loss as to how to go about this, and nearly drop the bowl when Taylor appears out of nowhere.
“What’s got you all huffy?” she asks, reaching around and grabbing a few blueberries and popping them into her mouth.
“Kinsley wants to date me.”
“Really?” she squeals. “That’s amazing!” She jumps up and down, but when I don’t show my own enthusiasm, she stops and looks at me. “Why does it sound like you’re unhappy about it? I thought this is what you wanted.”
“Oh, I am happy,” I tell her, pouring the batter onto the skillet. “But apparently, mentioning that I’m her boyfriend without actually asking her to be my girlfriend is unacceptable.”
Taylor gasps, her hands dramatically going to her chest. “You didn’t ask her out?”
“I haven’t asked anyone out since your mom, and I was seventeen. I wasn’t aware that I needed to do that at thirty-five.”
“You know, for a smart guy, you really can be dumb sometimes,” she chides. “Your future girlfriend reads romance. Of course she would expect her potential boyfriend to properly ask her out.”
“Okay,” I say, flipping the pancakes. “I get it.”
I don’t …
The second Kinsley told me she wanted more, that she wanted the promises and labels, I immediately considered her mine. But if she wants me to ask, I can do that. The problem is, I have a feeling that simply saying, Hey, will you be my girlfriend? won’t suffice.
“Do you?” Taylor questions, as if she can read my thoughts.
“Yeah, I need to ask her to be my girlfriend in a romantic way.”
I slide the pancakes onto our plates and hand her one.
“And how are you going to do that?” she asks, pouring syrup over her pancakes and then having a seat at the island.
“No damn clue,” I admit, having a seat next to her. “Any ideas?”
She thinks for a few minutes while we both eat our breakfast, and then her face lights up. “I got it! What if you bought her a pizza and wrote her a note that reads, This might be cheesy, but will you be my girlfriend? ”
“Seriously? That’s the best you got, kid?”
“I saw it in The Princess Diaries .” She shrugs.
“All those romance books, and you can’t think of a single way to ask her out?”
“Well, in most of my books, the guy is either in high school or college and hates her until, like, the last chapter, where he finally admits he’s loved her forever … or he’s a billionaire, and he takes her somewhere super fancy on a helicopter and makes a grand gesture. And since you’re far from a billionaire …”
“Screw this.” I shove the last of my pancakes into my mouth and swallow it down with a sip of my coffee. “Kinsley doesn’t need a grand gesture. She just wants me to ask, not assume. So, I’ll go by her work and ask.”
Taylor looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Wow … well, I hope you like being single because with that attitude, that’s how you’re going to die. Alone and single.”
“Dramatic much?”
I drop my plate into the dishwasher and rinse out my glass.
“I’m out of here,” Taylor says. “Don’t forget I leave tomorrow morning for state.”
“Am I driving you to the bus, or do you want to drive yourself?”
Before she started driving, every time she had a cheer competition, I’d drive her to the bus to see her off, but now that she has her own vehicle, she’s more independent.
“Nah, you can say goodbye to me tonight or tomorrow morning. I have to pick up Casey, and I’m leaving Snowball at the school.”
“All right, have a good day at school.”
“Will do! Love you.”
“Love you too.”
After she takes off, I jump in the shower and contemplate how to go about asking Kinsley to be my girlfriend. I’m still thinking about it while I walk Becky, and by the time I’m in my truck, heading over to Exposed Ink, I’ve decided that we’re adults, and she isn’t looking for a grand gesture—just for me to ask—and while my daughter’s advice is sweet, we’re not in high school anymore like she is.
But before I make it to the shop’s front door, I eye the pizza shop two doors down and groan because what if she is looking for a grand gesture?
“Fuck it.”
I walk over to the pizza shop, order a large pie so the other people she works with can have a slice, and then ask for a piece of paper I can write on … because apparently, I’ve become that guy.