Chapter 13
Half an hour later, they were still playing. The trail mix was long gone, and only one cookie remained. Empty wrappers littered the floor between them.
Not that there was that much space separating them anymore. At some point, one or both of them must have moved closer. Now they were sitting so close that Willow could feel the heat radiating off Scottie’s body.
Or maybe it wasn’t coming from Scottie. Maybe it was her own body producing all that heat. Her skin felt very sensitive, attuned to every subtle movement, every brush of Scottie’s knee against her own. Her closeness was like the low, constant hum of the emergency lights.
Scottie caught her staring and lifted her eyebrows. “What?”
“Nothing,” Willow said quickly. “Just thinking of a really good question.”
“Ooh. Let’s hear it!” Scottie waved both hands in a come-at-me gesture.
Willow asked the first thing that came to mind. “What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?”
“I don’t believe in guilty pleasures. As long as it’s not hurting anyone, why would I feel guilty about anything that gives me pleasure?” Scottie met her gaze, calm and unwavering.
The way she said pleasure, with her voice dipping low, sent a shiver down Willow’s body.
The answer also once again surprised her.
She’d expected Scottie to name a favorite junk food or a bad TV show she secretly loved to watch.
But then again, this answer seemed to fit Scottie.
Willow really admired the way Scottie knew exactly who she was and what she wanted and didn’t feel the need to apologize for it. “I like that answer.”
“Yeah?”
Willow nodded. “And since we’ve decided there’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure, I won’t feel guilty for doing this.” She swiped the last Oreo just as Scottie started to reach for it and took a big bite without even bothering with Scottie’s special technique.
Scottie laughed. “Ruthless. I said as long as it’s not hurting anyone. That was just cruel.” She pouted playfully.
Willow grinned around her mouthful of cookie but then relented, broke what remained in half, and handed one piece over.
“Ooh. Thank you.” Scottie studied her portion and seemed to decide it was too small to twist it apart, so she just popped it into her mouth. “My turn again. What’s the worst first date you’ve ever been on?”
The grin faded from Willow’s lips. “Does it count if it’s more like the worst first date I’ve never been on?”
Scottie raised both brows. “Sounds intriguing. Go on.”
Willow swept cookie crumbs off her lap and took her time answering, not eager to recount that particular story.
It had been years ago, but she still remembered the painful details.
“She worked at the grocery store where I used to shop. We made small talk for months before I finally worked up the courage to ask her out, and she said yes.”
“Doesn’t sound bad so far,” Scottie said.
“It wasn’t—until I stood her up because my car wouldn’t start. My phone was dead, so I couldn’t call her either. By the time I finally made it to the restaurant, she was gone.”
“And there never was a second date?” Scottie asked.
A sigh escaped Willow. “No. I tried to explain, but she thought I had blown her off and was just making excuses. She never gave me another chance.” She tried to keep her voice light, as if it were no big deal, but being dismissed so easily still stung.
What hurt the most was that it hadn’t happened only this once.
Willow had been accused of ghosting people several times when her dating app had glitched or her battery had died at the worst possible moment.
Eventually, she had all but given up on dating.
Scottie watched her for a moment as if she was trying to read between the lines, but she didn’t push for more details. “Her loss,” she finally said.
Willow wasn’t so sure about that. Still, she appreciated the sentiment.
The silence stretched for a moment, then Scottie shifted and leaned one shoulder against the metal wall. “Your turn to ask a question. Make it a good one.”
There was something Willow had been wondering for a while, but she hadn’t wanted to ask so she wouldn’t invite personal questions in return. Now might be her only chance to find out. “What’s your real first name?”
Scottie flashed a grin. “Want to take a guess?”
“Mildred?”
A low laugh escaped Scottie. “No.”
“Ethel?”
Scottie shuddered. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. It’s Sarah.”
“Oh, that’s not so bad. I thought it must be something horrible or old-fashioned and that’s why you’re not using it.”
“No, it’s all right, I guess. It just never felt like mine. Plus there were three other Sarahs in my class, so my nickname stuck. Other than my great-aunt, no one has called me Sarah since I was seven.”
Willow let her gaze trail over Scottie’s stocky build; her broad, open face; and the blonde hair that fell in soft layers to just above her jawline. No, she didn’t look like a Sarah—at least not any of the Sarahs Willow had ever met. “I think Scottie fits you really well.”
“Thanks.” Scottie trailed a hand through her hair, pushing back a wavy strand that had fallen onto her face.
They looked into each other’s eyes, then glanced away.
“Next question,” Willow said to cover for the sudden silence.
Scottie found one last raisin in the otherwise empty bag and popped it into her mouth. “What’s something you’ve never told anyone at work?”
Another minefield question. But then again, maybe it wasn’t.
She hadn’t socialized with anyone at Kudos except for Barb.
Her colleagues didn’t know anything about her, apart from her name and that she’d moved to Portland from Santa Cruz.
So she pretty much had her choice of harmless facts about herself.
“Wait, let me adjust my question since you’re new at Kudos,” Scottie said as if reading her thoughts. “Tell me something you’ve never told any of your friends.”
Friends? What friends? Willow wanted to say, but, of course, she would never admit that. She didn’t want Scottie to think she was even weirder than she probably already assumed. That left something she’d never told Fiona, who was her sister by blood and her best friend by choice.
She twirled one of the empty granola bar wrappers between her fingers. The rustle of plastic sounded overly loud in the echo chamber of the elevator. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that I’m terrified of butterflies.”
“Butterflies?” Scottie repeated.
Willow hunched her shoulders and kept her gaze on the granola bar wrapper, not wanting to see the incredulous expression she imagined on Scottie’s face.
“Mm-hmm. Well, maybe not terrified. I’m fine if I see one from a distance.
I think they’re beautiful. But as soon as they fly too close, I get really uncomfortable. I know it’s silly, but—”
Scottie pulled the wrapper from Willow’s fingers, careful not to touch her in the process. “It’s not silly. Maybe it’s their unpredictable, erratic flight pattern. You never know where they’ll land.”
At the gentle tone of her voice, Willow peeked up.
Scottie looked back at her without even a hint of mockery. She didn’t seem tempted to laugh at Willow’s strange fear at all.
This woman was too good to be true. Did she really not have one judgmental bone in her body? “Yeah, maybe. What about you? Do you have any fears that you’ve never admitted, even to your friends?”
Scottie wiped her crumb-dusted fingers on her pants. “I’ve actually got something similar, just with dogs. I’m even a little afraid of the small ones—that’s the part I’ve never admitted to anyone.” She gave a rueful smile. “I got bitten by a German shepherd when I was five. Still have the scar.”
Willow sucked in a sharp breath. Her gaze once again roved over Scottie’s body, this time looking for the scar.
Scottie bent down, reached up, and pushed the hair at the back of her head aside. “Right there.”
In the low light, Willow couldn’t see the scar, but her imagination showed her flashes of a huge dog, sharp canines, and a bleeding little girl.
Only when her fingertips brushed soft hair did she become aware that she had lifted her hand, either to touch the scar or to offer comfort.
She quickly yanked it back. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Scottie said. “I don’t remember much about it. I even like dogs, but if I see a strange dog coming toward me, my body tenses up.”
“I can imagine. I bet your body remembers, even if you don’t.” Willow reached for the water bottle and clutched it with both hands, just so she wouldn’t try to touch Scottie again.
What a strange day this was turning out to be. She couldn’t believe all the things she had revealed to Scottie.
It had to be the effect of being trapped in this metal box. The stuffy air and the heat in the elevator were getting to her. It seemed to be getting hotter by the second, especially with Scottie sitting so close.
With abrupt motions, Willow stripped off her blazer and popped open the top button on her blouse.
~ ~ ~
Scottie had never had a thing for collarbones, but as Willow undid a button on her blouse, her gaze flicked to the graceful arc and trailed over the patch of fair skin that peeked out from beneath the open collar.
She quickly looked away. “Uh, what are you doing? We agreed to play the truth-only version, not Truth or Dare, right?”
“I’m not stripping because of a dare. It’s just getting a little warm in here. Didn’t you notice?” Willow opened another button.
Scottie resisted the urge to fan herself. Oh yeah, it was definitely starting to heat up. “I noticed,” she croaked. She peeled off her hoodie and tossed it to the side. The air against her shoulders made her glad she’d worn a tank top.