It doesn’t take long for Seth and I to find our regular couple routine. Mornings in bed until we have to finally drag ourselves out for coffee and work, trading flirty text messages all day until we meet back up for a takeout dinner on the couch, and then falling back into bed again.
It’s pretty much perfect . . . except for the fact we still haven’t had “the talk.”
“I would help if you just asked me!”
“I don’t want to have to ask for help. That’s the whole point!”
I’m just dropping by my apartment for a quick change of clothes after spending the night at Seth’s—again—when I’m met with angry yells. I pause in my doorway, realizing I’m walking into one of Katie’s breakup mediations. One of Katie’s very loud and contentious breakup mediations.
I try to back out. The door squeaks. The shouting stops as all three heads swivel toward me.
“Sorry!” I singsong.
Katie shoots me an apologetic smile, then turns to her couple. “I think that’s enough catharsis for today. Why don’t we revisit this after you both put together the top five lists we talked about?”
She herds them toward the door.
Once it’s just the two of us, Katie gives me a big hug. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “I assumed you were at work.”
“Heading there,” I say. “After a shower and wardrobe change.”
She smiles. “I’ve hardly seen you all week. Not that I’m complaining about your active sex life. Or the fact that I basically have this apartment to myself. But . . . how are you?”
“In need of a shower,” I say, sheepish. “Let me take care of that and let’s get coffee on my way to the shop.”
A half hour later, we’re strolling toward my favorite café on the way to work. “So, this thing with Seth . . .” she says. “Is it getting serious?”
“I don’t know.” I bite my lip. “We haven’t exactly talked about where it’s going.”
Katie’s eyes are like lasers on me. “But you’re with him every night. Every free moment, actually.”
“Yes.” And when we’re not together, I’m thinking about him. I’m a smitten kitten.
“Sounds pretty serious to me.”
I sigh, my breath coming out in a cloud in the crisp winter chill. “I’m falling for him. Hard. I just don’t want to rush things or force a conversation yet if I’m not actually sure of the answer.”
“So you don’t know how he feels?”
“I know he acts like he cares about me, but . . . You know guys,” I say, wincing. “The minute you try and put a label on things, they suddenly just want to ‘keep it casual’ and ‘not box us in.’ I’m just scared that if I push the whole exclusive-commitment thing, he’ll turn around and bolt. He doesn’t exactly have a history of stable, long-term relationships,” I add.
“But what do you want?” Katie demands.
“For us to live happily ever after?” I crack, but I’m not totally joking here.
“You need to talk to him,” Katie says, assertive. “You need to know where you’re both at in this or the next thing you know, you’ll end up like my last couple. You’ll be resentful he can’t read your mind and will end up having a passive-aggressive affair with your podiatrist.”
“I don’t have a podiatrist,” I deadpan.
She laughs. “You know what I mean.”
“I mean, seriously,” I say. “What makes someone go into podiatry? Are they all foot fetishists?” I shiver.
“Focus, Apricot,” Katie mock-scolds.
“I know, I know,” I say. But am I ready to have that conversation with Seth? “It’s just, I don’t exactly have the best history with this kind of thing. I want to make plans past next week, and suddenly, they think I’m practically marching them down the aisle. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want him to think I’m being all ball-and-chainy.”
She pins me with another laser stare. “Don’t settle for less than you deserve, April. Follow your heart.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s an awfully romantic sentiment coming from a cynical breakup artist.”
She smirks. “I have a heart, you know, I just make my decisions with this.” She taps at her head.
“Yeah, well,” I tease. “If you’re not careful, one day your heart is going to flip you the bird and you’ll fall in love with a guy when you’re not paying attention.”
Just like how it happened with me.
We guzzle down our coffees then part ways, heading out to work. I’m nearly at my shop and am busy looking at a cute fruit-emoji-filled text I just got from Seth when I bump into somebody on the sidewalk.
“Sorry!” I blurt as I look up.
Right into James’s face.
Oh.
“Hey, April!” He’s smiling, as though he doesn’t seem surprised to see me. I remind myself we’re practically at my shop. Of course, he’d expect to see me on this block. “It’s so great to run into you. Literally! See what I did there? Ha ha!”
Awkward. I give him a polite smile, but really, I want to smack his smug face for trying to lure me to that cabin with him. But, I don’t want to blow Seth’s whole secrecy thing, so I keep quiet.
“Anyway,” James continues, “I need to head back to the hospital, but maybe us running into each other is fate.”
“Um. My shop is just over there so, more like probability,” I point out.
“Oh, right. A girl who loves math,” he says, which shows how little he knows about me. Math is my nemesis. “Anyway, it’s still a sign we should go out again.”
Doesn’t this guy take a hint? “That’s really flattering, James,” I lie. “But I don’t think so.”
He frowns. “But we hit it off. We had a great time.”
“My answer is no.” I’m more assertive this time, since he’s clearly not good with subtlety.
“I know we’re both busy, but I’m sure we can both find the time,” James says, like he didn’t even hear me. “Dinner, or even a lunch date . . .”
Oh God, this guy is so persistent. And clueless. A terrible combo when you’re trying to get a point across that’s not sinking in.
“How about I pick you up on Friday?” he continues, “I’m off work and—”
“I’m seeing someone!” I blurt out.
His face falls. “What?”
I take a breath. Typical for him to only pay attention when I have a solid reason not to date him. Because apparently, my own will isn’t enough. “Weird how these things happen, right?” I say, smiling brightly. “We just hit it off, there’s a real connection there. So, I’m off the market,” I say, making sure he gets the point. “Unavailable. It’s not going to happen with you and me.”
Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can identify it. He smiles and gives me a resigned nod.
Finally!
“I understand,” James says curtly. “I wish you all my best, April.”
And then he’s gone, walking down the street and turning a corner out of sight.
So, that was maximum awkward. I exhale in relief. Thank God it’s over. And this time, he seems to have finally gotten a clue.
For a surgeon, he sure acts dumb sometimes.
The day flies by at the shop, thanks to several new customers who saw my arrangements at Charlie and Matt’s engagement party. I finally finish up and go meet Seth in Chinatown for noodles. I’m ravenous and tired, but I’m happy to see him, especially when he’s already ordered spring rolls and fried wontons before I even walk in the door.
I give him a kiss and then drop into my seat, wasting no time. I grab chopsticks out of the holder and start in.
“Hungry, much?” Seth laughs.
“Sorry,” I say around a bite of wonton. “We were really busy today. I had to skip lunch.”
“Just think how busy you’ll be after you’re on the Bridal List,” Seth says, and I laugh.
“Not so fast, mister. We don’t know if your evil plan has worked just yet.”
“It will,” he says, confident.
I grin at him as I chew. His faith in me is pretty great. The waiter comes and takes our noodle order and pours us some hot Jasmine tea. Between the food and Seth across from me, I’m loving my life right now.
“So, tell me about your day,” Seth says once the waiter’s gone.
“Well . . .” I wince and tell him about running into James on the street. “I feel kind of bad, having to keep rejecting him,” I add, once I’m done with the highlights. “He seemed to think we had a connection.”
“Don’t,” Seth says. “He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it. Anyway, let me remind you that the guy tried to lure you to a cabin in the woods under the guise of a work gig.”
“Ugh.” I shiver. “You’re so right. I can’t believe I needed that reminder. Guilt is gone.”
“Not to mention,” he says, spearing another wonton, “I don’t want you even giving that guy a moment’s thought.”
I smile sweetly at him. “Jealous?”
“I’m not really the jealous type.” He shrugs. “He’s just shady.”
Right. And it’s not like we’re exclusive.
After we eat, we walk back to my place. It’s snowing a little, but not enough to be dirty and slushy, so it’s that rare perfect moment of winter in the city.
As we stroll, he tells me about the giant box of toothpaste and brushes that showed up at his place, thanks to a very grateful Charlie.
I laugh. “That’s hilarious. I like her a lot.”
“It’s mutual. The note said I’m supposed to share with you.” He smiles down at me, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “So, the next time you sleep over . . .”
I love sleeping at his place. I love having him at my place, too. Actually, I just love being with him. I don’t care where it is. I look up at him, feeling a wave of emotion.
I’m falling for him. There’s no denying it. I don’t even want to. But what are we doing? Katie’s right. I need to follow my heart. It’s pounding, bringing me to this moment where I bare my soul and tell him what I want from him and find out if it’s the same as what he wants from me.
“Seth?” I take a deep breath.
“Mmhmm?”
I open my mouth. My heart stutters.
I close my mouth. Chicken out.
Because hey, things are really perfect right now! I don’t want to ruin it all by seeming like I’m serving up a relationship ultimatum.
I’m happy. Things are good. I don’t want to risk that.
“April?” he prods when nothing comes from my mouth. “You OK?”
“Oh yeah, for sure,” I cover quickly. “I was just thinking that we could stop for . . . ice cream?”
“As you wish, Buttercup,” he quips, quoting The Princess Bride.
I smile. And keep my mouth shut about feelings.
But am I being smart—or just a coward?