Page 56 of Mixed Signals
I like a lot of things about Caleb.
“Let’s hear it.”
I fold my hands in my lap and arrange myself in the passenger seat. “Why do you need help with dating?”
I watch his smile falter and his jaw clench, his eyes darting to me then back to the radio. He presses a button and Rick Astley erupts over the speakers before he turns the whole thing off.“What do you mean?”
“I mean the roller rink, the escape room, the beach picnic—you might have had some hiccups with the location, but you’ve always been great.” Great feels like a small word for some of the best dates I’ve ever been on in my life. “I don’t really understand why you don’t have a line of women around the block.”
He shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. “I told you,” he mutters. “I’m too much for some people.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“It means,” he sighs the words, glancing out the window at the rain falling in sheets. He shifts warm brown eyes back to me. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Layla.”
Oh, god. My entire body goes rigid in his nice leather seat. I knew Caleb was too good to be true. Is he going to pull out a tiny voodoo doll from the center console of his Jeep? Is he going to tell me he only likes having sex while wearing a full-size mascot costume? Is he a secret furry?
“What is it?” I whisper, bracing myself for the worst.
Caleb looks down at his legs. Back up at the ceiling. Over my shoulder through the window and then finally, reluctantly, back to my face. “I have a pretty good idea about why women don’t go out with me.”
“Please don’t say you’re a furry,” I mutter to myself.
His eyebrows collapse in a heavy line. “What?”
“Nevermind. Please continue.”
“I’m kind of a pushover,” he finally tells me. “I tend to see only the good things and—” His mouth twitches with a small, self-deprecating smile that almost cracks my heart clean in two. “—and I gloss over the rest.”
I frown, not seeing the problem. “There’s nothing wrong with being an optimist. Especially when a relationship is just starting out.”
“That’s true. But no one wants a partner without an opinion, paralyzed by the fear that their true self is someone no one will ever want.”
“Caleb.” My chest pulls tight. “Is that what you think?”
He shrugs again. “I haven’t had any luck with … anyone. It’s why we started this arrangement, yeah? I guess I’m trying to figure out how to make my pieces fit with someone else’s. You really don’t have any tips for me?”
The earnest question urges the crack in my heart deeper. I think about Caleb on the dates we’ve been on, holding open every single door, his palm hovering over the small of my back. The eager, interested look on his face, anytime I’ve told him anything. How he remembers—my coffee order, how I don’t really like seafood, my preference for oat milk over real dairy. My favorite ice cream flavor and what time I wake up in the morning to get to the bakehouse before the morning rush.
“No,” I say faintly. “I really don’t have any tips for you.” I pause. “Except maybe double-check your health insurance before you start dating a woman. You are awfully accident prone.”
He cracks a half smile, eyes stuck somewhere around his knees. “That’s just with you,” he mumbles.
“Caleb,” I sigh his name and he looks up at me. I hate that this is how he sees himself, how he sees what he has to offer a partner. Because all I see is a man who is steady, kind and true, with a heart as wide as the ocean. “Maybe the reason why you haven’t figured out how to fit your pieces with someone else is because you haven’t found the right puzzle.”
His lips quirk up at the corners as he studies me, weighing what I said. “You think?”
“I do.” I nod once. “You’ve got to find your rare, one-of-a-kind, 808-piece puzzle with tiny pieces and frustrating colors.”
A low laugh rumbles out of him and I’m ridiculously pleased. Every time I hear that laugh, I feel like I’ve won something.
“Alight, well.” He drags his hand through his wet hair. I’m distracted by the stretch of his wet t-shirt over his bicep. Apparently the puzzle I’m offering is a penthouse pin-up. A centerfold, maybe. “I guess that’s something.”
“You have a lot to offer someone, Caleb. Don’t settle.”
His eyes are warm as he watches me. “I won’t.”
“Good.”
