Chapter 19
nineteen
I find a quiet table away from the group and pull out the first sheet. There are enough people here, they won’t miss me for a round.
“Pierce, Frederick Calder” is scrawled across the top of a lined piece of paper. Very official. I look up with a grin, but Calder isn’t watching. He isn’t . . . on the court anymore either. Strange.
I keep reading.
1. What’s your ideal Saturday?
Sleeping in. Then pickleball two ways.
I choke on my laugh and search for him again. Where the hell is he?
2. Biggest turn-on?
You already know this.
Uh, yes. Pickleball skorts.
3. Biggest red flag?
You already know this.
True again. People who swear they can only play with one brand of balls.
4. What’s your type?
Women who risk their lives to rescue animals that will die next week.
I slap a hand over my mouth to keep from squealing. My heart feels like it’s been dunked in carbonated water, all bubbly and popping.
I rip out the second sheet with my name on the top, and my breathing hitches. There aren’t four questions listed like his. I scan the page, then flip it over. There are twenty-eight questions?
1. What’s your favorite snack?
Those cinnamon almond butter biscuit things. You always have one in your bag.
2. What’s your favorite color?
Blue.
I blink and look down. My skirt is sky blue, and my tank top is navy. Huh.
3. Where did you grow up?
Loveland, but you got your degree at CU Boulder.
I sit up straight. We’ve never talked about that. How does he—? I read through the other questions. What’s your favorite show? What’s your makeup brand? What was your best date?
The answers are all there.
“Hey! You disappeared for a minute. You good?” Sam jogs up and leans over the table. She barely glances at the paper in my hands. I’m immediately skeptical.
“You don’t want to see what this is?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh! Sure, yeah. Please—”
“Sam.”
She swallows hard. “Alecia.”
My jaw drops. “You were in on this!”
Sam thinks about denying it, but can’t do it. Her face lights up. “He had so many questions.”
“When did you talk with him?”
“Most of last week.”
“What!?”
“Yeah, he got my number from Garrett, and—”
“He texted Garrett about you?”
“Yeah, he—”
We both land at the same realization at the exact same time and burst out laughing. That’s why Garrett thought Calder was into Sam.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She throws out her hands and nearly sweeps her new paddle onto the floor. “Because he said he had this whole plan. And he was so serious about it. It was adorable.”
“But he didn’t know you and I were—” Oooh. Yes he did. He has access to the app and we were both signed up for singles’ night. He knew we were coming before I even texted.
My mind spins. “So he had this planned before last night.”
“Yeah, babe.”
I shove the papers back into the folder. “Where is he?” She scans the courts just like I do, but we both come up empty. “Did he leave? I swear.”
I run to my bag, shove the folder in, grab my phone, then bolt to the front doors, and push out to the parking lot. I search for his car, but when I don’t see it right away, I dial his number.
“Hello?”
“What the hell? You give me that and then take off?”
He laughs. “I didn’t take off.”
“Well, you’re not inside. Are you in the back or something? I came outside, but your car isn’t here, so—”
“Alecia. Look up.”
I stop and lift my eyes. Calder’s there. Halfway down the first aisle of the lot. Half obscured by Pete and Julie’s SUV.
I click off the phone and dart toward him.