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“Okay, so he has a playboy past. Like half the other men out there. Myself included. Yet…he’s apparently not like that anymore. Probably got it out of his system. So, what’s your other excuse?”
I rolled my eyes. “As we’ve discussed, he has a kid. He doesn’t even have time to focus on a relationship.”
Deek chuckled. “You realize you’re contradicting yourself, right? First the guy is a playboy, now he’s too responsible and a devoted father? God forbid!”
I sighed. My arguments were weakening pretty fast.
“You know what I think?” he asked.
I crossed my arms. “What?”
“You’re making excuses out of fear. Take away those two factors you just mentioned and think about whether you genuinely like the guy. I bet if you made a list of the pros, they would greatly outnumber the cons.”
If I thought about how Colby made me feel and my attraction to him, my feelings were undeniable. “Okay. Truth. When I’m around him, I’m happier than I’ve been in a very long time. There’s nothing not to like if I remove the child aspect and the fear about his past. The list of things I like would fill that entire paper. But I can’t just ignore the other stuff.”
Deek shrugged. “Sure, you can.”
“How can I even trust my own judgment? Look at my track record! I didn’t see any of that coming with Kaiden.”
“Sounds to me like you’re due for a good one, then. The universe is trying to shove it in your face, and you’re being too damn stubborn. Pretty soon the universe is gonna get downright pissed and give up on you.”
I rolled my eyes. Note to self: if I want someone to convince me I should steer clear of Colby, Deek is not that person. I should probably be talking to my mother about this. She’d have no problem convincing me that a guy like Colby would never be interested in a girl like me.
***
After I left Deek’s, I took the stairwell down so I had to pass by a certain someone’s apartment on the way out. My brain told me I needed to flee the premises, but apparently my feet were listening to some other part of me, because rather than do what they should’ve and continue out the door, they stopped right in front of Colby’s place.
Should I knock?
There were so many reasons knocking would be a bad idea. For one, it was on the later side. Saylor was probably sleeping, and I’d wake her up. But it would be nice to see him. To say hello. Ugh. Why couldn’t I just lift my damn hand and knock? I looked up at the ceiling and let out a long breath. Then I began to pace as I continued to debate whether to knock or leave. A woman exiting her apartment smiled at me, and I waved at her awkwardly.
It must have been about ten minutes that I loitered there like an idiot, talking to myself and continuing to pace.
Then Colby’s door opened. He scratched his head. “Billie?”
“Oh!” I feigned laughter and ignored my pounding heart. “Hey, Colby.”
He was dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie. He looked hot. But when does he not look hot?
Concern crossed his face. “Is everything okay?”
Running my hand through my hair, I exhaled. “Sure. Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, for one, my neighbor called and said there was a strange woman standing outside my door talking to herself. So I looked out the peephole, and here you were. That was several minutes ago. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever you were working through. But then it got to a point where I couldn’t help myself.” He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”
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.
