The Rules of Dating(36)

“Yeah. Just a…personal issue.” I stood from my chair. “Will you excuse me for a moment? I need to use the restroom.”

“Of course,” he said, looking concerned.

I went to the bathroom to text Colby in peace. Leaning against the sink, I typed lightning fast.

Billie: Have you been watching me all night?

Colby: Yeah. Because I have SO much time on my hands that I’ve now taken to stalking you. Really, Billie?

Billie: Are you here, though?

He dodged the question.

Colby: I just wish you were fucking honest with me.

Billie: What do you mean?

Colby: All this time you’ve been acting like you’re afraid of anything serious, not wanting to date. But apparently you’re just hesitant to date ME. Why not say that and be done with it?

He had no clue. He wanted me to be honest? Honest would have meant admitting that I’d never been more scared of anything in my life than my feelings for him. They were the very reason I was on this date.

Billie: It’s not that simple, Colby.

Colby: Love the royal blue corset, by the way. I hadn’t seen that one before. You must reserve that one for real dates.

Ouch.



I walked back out and surveyed the place. There was no sign of him.

Billie: Why won’t you tell me where you are?

Colby: Because it doesn’t matter.

Billie: It matters to me.

After about a minute, he texted back.

Colby: You think I like coming across as a jealous bastard? This is not a good look, and I know it. I debated whether I should text you. But people do stupid things when they like someone. And I truly like you, Billie. I like you so much that I can’t even think straight right now. I put fucking hot sauce in my daughter’s spaghetti, thinking it was mine. Thank God I caught it before I burned her mouth off.

I just stood there staring down at my phone. My heart hurt.

Colby: Don’t text back. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have interrupted your night. You don’t owe me anything.

Then one more.

Colby: Goodnight.

My legs were wobbly as I forced myself back to the table. Then I looked to my left and spotted Holden at the bar. His eyes locked with mine, and he lifted his beer in salute. He was the one sending information to Colby. I waved, though I really wanted to give him the finger.





CHAPTER 11


Billie



“Billie?”

I heard Deek call my name but was only sort of half listening. “Hmmm?”

“I’m going to run out and get a smoothie. You want one?”

I continued to sterilize the equipment I’d been cleaning for a while until a high-pitched whistle grabbed my attention. I looked up to find Deek with his brows raised.

“You want one or not?”

My nose wrinkled. “Want what?”

Deek folded his arms over his chest. “Alright, that’s it. Sit your ass down.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you and me, we’re going to have a talk.”

“Why do you sound like you’re in dad mode?”

“Just sit, Billie.”

I rolled my eyes but tossed the paper towel in my hand into the garbage before planting my butt in my hydraulic chair. “What’s up?”

Deek pointed at me. “You’re fucking miserable.”

“I am not.”

“You’ve been cleaning crap for almost two weeks now. You’re the person who spills shit and leaves it long enough that you yell at someone else to clean it up because you no longer remember you did it.”

I squinted at him. “I do not.”

Deek turned his head toward the front of the store. “Hey, Justine!”

“Yeah?”

“Who spilled the purple juice that sat on the floor for six months?”

“Billie. Why?”

“And does Billie ever clean?”

“Only when she’s pissed off or sad.”

Deek turned back to me. “So, like I was saying, you’re so miserable that even our customers are feeling it.”

I took offense to that. “I don’t give bad tattoos, even when I’m in a bad mood.”

“Didn’t say you gave a bad tattoo. But the poor girl who walked in here the other night wanting a butterfly walked out with the Grim Reaper on her arm, Billie.”

I shrugged. “So? The Grim Reaper is way better than a butterfly.”

“I agree. But the girl wanted a fucking butterfly. It went with her annoyingly chipper personality. But when she asked your opinion, you told her most people who get butterflies are shallow ex-cheerleaders who live empty lives and wind up marrying for money that they blow on bad Botox.”

Had I really said that? Oh God. I guess I had. Yet I shrugged. “Well…it’s the truth.”

Deek smiled. “Of course it is. Who the fuck wants that shit on their body? But my point is, you’re usually good at vibing with a client and giving them what they want, even if it is unoriginal and boring.”

I sighed. “I went out with Eddie last week.”

“I knew that. Figured you’d tell me about it when you were ready.” He paused. “Wait, that fucker didn’t do something to you, did he? I’ll stick a dumbbell up his ’roid-riding ass…”