Chapter 9 #2
This may only be our third encounter, and maybe none of them could be considered romantic, but Jake’s words hit home.
Not that I’ll ever admit that to him. If anyone can make a relationship work, it’s me.
Perseverance is my middle name. I just have to approach dating like I would a game: show up, commit, work hard, and fight for what I want.
Maya folds her arms over her ample chest, careful not to spill the coffee she’s been carrying around. “I haven’t heard from you in over a month.”
There’s no anger or annoyance in her tone; she says it like she’s stating the weather.
And that may hurt more than if she were upset.
Rubbing my fingertips against my forehead, I sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out or answer your text. I’ve never had to make time for someone else, and I got in my head about it. It’s a lame excuse, but it’s the truth.”
“While I appreciate the apology, it’s unnecessary,” she says, keeping her chin lifted. “You don’t owe me anything, considering we barely know each other.”
“I’d like to know you,” I tease, flashing my most disarming grin. “That’s what dates are for, right?”
Her eyes narrow into a skeptical squint. “I’m not going on a date with you.”
My shoulders deflate. Dammit. I knew I’d messed up, but I didn’t think I’d get an outright no. It throws me off just enough that instead of going with a smooth or persuasive line, I blurt, “Can we be friends?”
She shrugs as if she doesn’t care one way or the other. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
“I want to take you on a date,” I correct, my brain functioning again. “But until you agree to go out with me, we can be friends.”
“All I’m offering is friendship,” she reiterates with a put-out sigh. “I can’t—I’m not looking for more.”
I nod, even though I’m full of it. “Friends it is.”
She juts out her hip. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
My lips twitch. “Like what?”
“Like it’s cute that I want to be friends,” she huffs.
She looks like an adorable puppy trying to act like a wolverine, but I keep that observation to myself.
“It is cute.” I smirk. “Because I assure you there’s nothing friendly about the things I want to do to you.”
An honest-to-God gasp flies from her lips. “You can’t say shit like that.”
I nod at a display covered in books featuring half-naked men with glistening abs, fangs, and wings. If they can show off all of that, then I’m in the clear. And considering Maya’s nipples are taut beneath her sweater, I’m pretty sure her complaint is all bluster.
“Friends,” she repeats, as if trying to hammer the word into my skull. “That’s what I’m offering. So none of that babe nonsense.”
“Friends have nicknames,” I point out. I’ve never called a friend babe before, but I’ve also never wanted to kiss a friend this badly.
She shifts, one hip popped out, her attitude on full display. “But babe isn’t a nickname. It’s a pet name.”
I flash an innocent smile. “What can I call you, then?”
She takes a small sip of her coffee. “This is a weird concept, but you could call me by my name.”
I wave off that simple suggestion. “How about bookie?”
“Bookie?” she asks, her lip curled up on one side. “What am I? A back-alley gambler collecting debts?”
Biting back a laugh, I rub my chin. “Hmm. Paperback princess?”
“Pass. That sounds like a literary porn star, which I don’t think is a thing.”
“Worm?”
“Worm?” She reels back a step, nearly spilling her coffee. With a gasp, she yanks her cup away from any books in the potential splash zone. “What did I ever do to you? Why would you want to call me worm? That’s so—”
“It’s short for bookworm,” I explain before she can hurl a hardcover at my head.
That doesn’t diminish the horror in her expression.
Damn. It’s not like I said she looks like a worm.
“I’m not exactly good with nicknames,” I defend. “I call my friends by their last names. And before you ask, no, I am not lumping you into that group.”
I’ve already been friend-zoned, and the whole point of giving her a nickname is in the hope that it’ll transition into a pet name.
Calling her by her last name just further cements me as a friend.
A person can’t call someone they have sexual interest in by their last name. It defies the laws of physics.
“It seems we’re at an impasse.” Maya’s eyes meet mine over the rim of her coffee cup as she takes a long sip.
The name comes to me like a flash of lightning. “Bean!”
Her lips twist in concentration as she lowers her cup. “As in flick the bean? Because of the smutty books?”
If I had my own coffee, it 100 percent would be decorating everything within spitting distance. “What?” I cough out. “Christ. No, Maya. Bean as in coffee bean.”
Her face flushes fire-engine red. “Oh. Well… I don’t hate that, then.”
“Great. Bean it is.” I nod once, then twist the knife in a little deeper. “So, bean. If I had asked you out on a date before I disappeared, would you have said yes?”
Focus downcast, she pets Goose’s thick fur. “Honestly? Probably not. I just got out of a relationship. And I like you.”
“Isn’t liking me a good thing?”
“Depends on how you look at it.” She cocks her head, her lips tipped up in a wistful smile. “Now, are you actually going to read the alien book? Or should we find something less anatomically creative?”
“I’ll take the book,” I confirm. “And your friendship.”
If I need to tread lightly, take this slowly, in order to prove myself, then that’s what I’ll do. Maya doesn’t know it yet, but in the short time she’s known me, she’s accomplished something no one else has. She’s made Cole show up. Not the player, not the teammate, not the captain. Just me.
And if reading about purple aliens falling in love proves that I’m interested in her? So be it. I’ve never walked away from a challenge and I won’t start now.