The Rules of Dating(27)

My mouth opened and closed a few times. “Honestly…I was debating whether or not to knock.”

“I figured as much. But why?”

I exhaled. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t want to wake Saylor?”

“Probably not.” He smiled. “But you know what? I’m glad you’re here, and after all the time you’ve invested out here, I think you should come in.” He looked over his shoulder. “Also, you’ll be very happy to know I’m doing the most unsexy, undatelike thing ever, so you won’t have to worry about things getting too wild up in here.”

As I stepped inside, I immediately noticed the mountain of laundry in the middle of the room. It was practically five-feet high, an explosion of pastel colors mixed with masculine ones, dresses mixed with collared shirts, pink towels mixed with black.

“I interrupted your laundry night. I should go…”

“Are you kidding? Best interruption ever, trust me.”

I plopped myself down next to the pile and began to fold.

He held out his hand. “Whoa. What are you doing? You don’t need to do that.”

I looked up. “I actually love folding laundry. I find it so relaxing, placing the warm material against my face, stopping to smell the fresh scent, focusing on folding it just right. It’s like sensory meditation.” I grabbed a random item and took a long whiff.

“You know that’s my underwear, right?”

I froze. Shit.

“But by all means, continue doing that. It’s hot. And relax away if you like folding and smelling. I’ll take an impromptu meditation session with you any day.”

I felt my face heat. “Anyway, they smell good.” I folded the boxer briefs and set them aside.

He laughed, joining me on the floor across from the pile.

“This is a nice change of pace. I normally put the TV on low volume to pass the time, but I’d much rather look at you.”

“How often do you do your laundry exactly, because this is…quite a lot.”

“Once a month, maybe?”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

He might have been a dad, but he was also a typical bachelor in many ways.

We sat together folding laundry for several minutes when I noticed him staring at the inside of my right forearm. While my entire left arm was an ink sleeve, I only had one tattoo on the other. It was a Victorian key.

“Does that one have special meaning?” he asked. “I noticed it’s all by itself.”

I smiled and held my arm out. “It does. My grandmother wore this key around her neck every day after my grandfather died. He was in the military, and they met while he was home on leave once. This key opened his footlocker, where he kept everything important to him. At the end of their first date, he told her he didn’t need it anymore because the most important thing he could have was right in front of him. They’d been married for fifty-one years when he died. And when my grandmother passed two years ago, we buried her with the key.”

“Wow. That sounds like something Rose would do, from Titanic.”

I laughed. “I’m surprised you know who Rose from Titanic is. But yeah, it does.”

Colby went quiet for a few minutes. He seemed lost in thought. So I tucked a pair of socks into a ball and chucked it at him. “What are you thinking about over there?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He smiled. “I guess I was just thinking about how the woman who is the president of the All Men Suck Club is actually a romantic at heart.”

“I am not. It’s just a tattoo.”

He caught my eyes and grinned. “Uh-huh.”

He surprised me by letting the subject drop. “Have you eaten?” he asked instead.

I placed a neatly folded pair of pants to my right. “Actually, I had dinner with Deek a couple of hours ago.”

“A couple of hours ago? Well, you must be getting a little hungry again. Let me get you a snack.”

“I’m not a three-year-old. That’s not necessary.”

“You’re a guest in my house.” He stood up. “It is necessary for me to offer you something. Want some wine?”

“No, thank you. I drank with dinner.”

Colby went to the kitchen before returning with a couple of things that made me smile.

“In these parts, there is no lack of kiddie snacks. I figured if you like Goldfish, you might like these.”

He placed a small Lunchable container in front of me, along with a box of grape juice.

“You know me so well. This is perfect, actually.” I laughed. “Don’t mind if I do.” I opened the package and placed one of the small slices of cheese atop a cracker and took a bite. “I thought maybe you were going to grab me a spinach brownie.”

He hopped back up. “I have some of those. Want one?”

I chuckled. “No. Sit. This is more than enough.”

Colby returned to the floor and watched intently as I devoured my snack, as if watching me eat was some kind of spectator sport.

“What?” I finally asked with my mouth full.

“Sorry. I like watching you—the way you lick the corner of your mouth every once in a while. Even the way you eat is unique. It’s cute.”

“Well, you haven’t watched me eat a rack of ribs. Because there is nothing cute about that.” I took a sip from the juice box.