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“Really?” I ask, my voice climbing an octave or two. This hotStar Warsgeek (who still needs to show me his lightsaber) wants to spend time with me? Squee!
* * *
“What do you have going today?” Kyle asks as he drives me back to the Silver Lining to get my car. He’s not only good-looking now that I’m sober, but also in the daylight.
“Oh, a shower, for starters,” I ponder out loud. “Then I’ll probably put the damn snowboard up on Craigslist and try to get some work done.”
“What kind of work do you do?” he asks, signaling left and turning.
“I edit romance novels,” I tell him.
My next order of business will be to demand one of my authors name a stupid, repugnant villain after Scott and give him herpes and a bent dick.
“No kidding?”
“Yeah, with my coordination, waitressing and stripping are out.” I shrug. “Nothing breaks and no one dies when I can work from my couch. Are you bummed I don’t write futuristic fantasy?”
“Not at all. I think it’s cool.” He grins. “You could always combine romance with a sci-fi theme,” he kids, lifting a shoulder as he turns into the Silver Lining’s parking lot.
“I drive the silver Mazda.” I wave a hand at my vehicle parked in the middle row, all by its lonesome.
Kyle pulls up next to my car and asks for my phone so he can load his number into it. Then he sends himself a text so he’ll have mine. I try not to get my hopes up about him actually using as I thank him again for all his care and kindness.
But he’s apparently not done impressing me yet. When I grab the door handle, he holds up a hand while opening his door.
“Wait, hang on.”
I pause as he hurries around the front of the car and… oh my God, I’m in a black and white forties movie. He helps me out of the seat and holds on to my arm as he guides me the few feet to my car.
“What’s this about?” I ask, somewhat rhetorically, at his chivalrous gesture.
“It’s icy.” He points at the frozen asphalt, and yep, it’s frozen over from the night’s low temperatures.
“And I’m quite literally a walking disaster,” I finish for him as I click the unlock button on my key fob.
“What do you think attracted me to you last night?” He leans coolly against my car as I open the door.
“My resemblance to Calamity Jane?”
“The way you own it,” he verifies. “I watched you slip twice and knock over three different objects, but you didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. You just carried on.”
“I don’t get embarrassed,” I answer with a half smile and slide into the driver’s seat. “Been clumsy my whole life. I’m used to it.”
“Hey.” He leans down before I close my door, resting his hands on the door and the frame.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got a crazy idea.”
“Do tell.”
“What if you didn’t get rid of your fuckwad ex’s snowboard?” he asks.
I snort at his choice of adjective. “Well then, I’d have a useless snowboard lying around.”
“It’s not useless if you make use of it and come snowboarding with me,” he suggests.
I vaguely remember him telling me he did IT work up at the ski resort, along with teaching occasional lessons.
