“What?”
“You like her.”
“Well, yeah, I like her.” What’s not to like? She’s gorgeous, there’s no bullshit with the PT rehab, and she’s funny and feisty; her body is rockin’; and she’s fun to be around, super chill, and genuinely selfless.
“Like you actually want to date her, though.”
I shrug, because what am I going to say? The answer to that is yes, I want to date her, but the timing needs to be right. “I don’t want the ex thinking he has another chance. He’s stupid as fuck and can’t take a hint.”
“You really love complicated situations, don’t you?”
“They just tend to find me, is all.”
“When’s this event you’re supposed to take her to?” King asks.
“Saturday.”
He frowns. “We get back at noon on Saturday.”
“It’s in the evening.”
“You better hope our flight isn’t delayed.”
I hadn’t considered a delay. The only reason that would happen is if the weather isn’t good. “It doesn’t start until five. I should have plenty of time to get home and throw a suit on.”
Kingston nods and taps restlessly on the edge of the pool. “So would you call this your first date?”
“We hang out all the time.”
“‘Hang out’ meaning what?”
“Other than PT sessions, we watch hockey, eat pizza, stuff like that.”
Kingston blinks several times in rapid succession. “That’s it?”
“I pick her up from work a lot.”
“Have you ever bought her flowers before? Brought her any gifts?”
“I brought her over an aloe plant once. But, like I said, it hasn’t been like that.” I don’t get why he’s so hung up on the flowers.
“Again, please try not to take offense, but are you sure you haven’t inadvertently put yourself in the friend zone?”
“How do I know if I’m in the friend zone?” I haven’t had a lot of friends who are girls. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend who’s a girl who isn’t related to me. And I only have two female cousins, whom I see a couple of times a year at family functions. They’re significantly younger than me, so mostly I avoid them.
It’s Kingston’s turn to blow out a long breath. “If you put your arm around her and she gets all snuggly but doesn’t try to take it any further, it could mean you’re in the friend zone.”
I don’t know what my expression must be, but the panic I feel inside quite possibly reaches my face.
Kingston holds up a hand. “Don’t freak out yet. I think this is a different kind of situation, and I’m speaking from my own experience.”
“You’ve been friend zoned?”
“Oh yeah. Lots of times. Especially in high school. I was like every girl’s best guy friend all of sophomore and junior year. One of the girls I hung out with a lot ended up dating one of my friends. She told me after the fact that she’d been hoping I’d ask her out, but after a certain point I still hadn’t done anything about it, so when he made the move, she said yes. Kind of put things into perspective, you know? Most of the time I was more focused on hockey than I was dating, but I solved the friend-zone problem in senior year.”
“What happened in senior year?”
“Someone spiked the punch at the winter semiformal, and the liquid courage gave me the balls to kiss my date. I mean, I asked first if it was okay for me to kiss her, and she said yes, which was good, because she told me if I hadn’t made a move that night, she was ready to throw in the towel. She thought I wasn’t interested and I only said yes to going with her to be nice.”
I feel like it should be obvious that I’m interested. A guy doesn’t spend endless hours with a gorgeous woman who combines weird pizza toppings for shits and giggles. But then again, I haven’t attempted to make a move on her since the almost-kiss and grind. And any conversation I’ve tried to have with her about it has been shut down. In fact, she wants to pretend it didn’t happen. I hadn’t considered that this might be because she actually didn’t want it to happen at all. She seemed just as into it as I was. Or maybe I’ve been misreading the whole thing. “If I’m in the friend zone, how the hell do I get out?”
“You can only get out of it if you talk to her and tell her where you’re at.”
“Right. I get that. So just come out and tell her, then?”
“Sure, but you can sort of pave the way with flowers and chocolate or something, unless she isn’t into either. After I was drafted and I had extra cash flow, I started sending Jessica to get her nails done before an event, or before I’d fly her out for a visit. Sometimes I’ll even have a dress sent to her place, but you’d have to know Stevie’s size and measurements for that. Not all women like to be pampered, but generally doing something nice or thoughtful is safe. She needs to know you’re thinking about her in a nonplatonic way.”