Later, I am sitting on the theater steps, phone pressed to my ear, waiting for Riley to pick up. The front of the building is still buzzing faintly from the fundraiser. The leftover balloons swaying in the breeze and chalk drawings on the sidewalk.
Riley answers on the third ring.
“Well, well. Look who remembered he has friends,” he teases.
“Could never forget about you, busy week, but yeah, wanted to call,” I say.
“Busy saving a small town theater, I assume?” Riley asks.
“Something like that,” I admit.
“So? How did it go?” Riley asks.
“Incredible,” I say, leaning back against the railing. Telling him about the turnout, the music, the lawn games and food trucks, how the silent auction that Violet put together raised a lot of money to help with the theater, and how everyone has been talking about it since.
“Okay,” Riley says, whistling. “I’m impressed. So, the town loves you already.”
“They keep asking when the theater opens,” I say
“End of May still, right?” he asks.
“Yep, still not sure on an exact date, but I’ll let you know soon. Are you still planning on coming for the grand opening?”
“Oh, I’m coming. Absolutely,” he confirms.
Riley’s voice softens slightly, “And, what about the girl?”
I stiffen, running a hand through my hair. “I kissed her.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “At the fundraiser?” he asks.
“After the fundraiser, in her café a couple of days later.”
“And how do you feel about her?” he probes.
I glance at the empty street in front of me. I think about her laugh, how she leaned on the counter when she teased me, how she told me she didn’t know if she could trust men again after her ex. I thought about the way she listened when I talked about the theater, the way she believes in me and encourages me throughout the whole process.
“I really like her,” I say, my voice low. “More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since the first day I walked into the café.”
Riley groans. “You’re gone.”
“Not gone,” I say, smirking, “Just invested.”
“I asked her on a date, for tomorrow, I haven’t figured out what I want to do yet. I don’t want a restaurant. Everyone in town would watch us like we were in a fishbowl.”
Riley’s chuckle comes through the phone. “Simple solution, cook for her at her place.”
I blink. “At her apartment?”
“Yeah. Her home. She’ll be comfortable. Girls love it when a guy cooks for them.”
I thought about her, about her apartment, about the way she smiled at me when I teased her, the way she rolled her eyes at my jokes. Cooking for her at her place, it seems perfect.
I stare at my phone for a second after the call ended, Riley’s last words echoing in my head.
Girls love it when a guy cooks for them.
I slide the phone into my pocket and leaned back against the railing outside the theater, letting out a slow breath.
