Page 9 of Mixed Signals
“This analogy got weird,” he finally says.
“It really did.”
The truth is I watched Stella fall in love with Luka, a man she harbored a crush on for close to ten years. Then I watched Beckett begrudgingly fall in love with Evelyn, a woman who couldn’t be more his opposite. And after Beckett declared his love via social media—a shock to literally everyone, Beckett included, probably—our little Christmas tree farm became a destination for anyone hoping to snag a little romance for themselves. I have seen more proposals, first dates, and sickeningly affectionate couples in the past three months than any person stuck in a dating rut should have to endure.
I want that for myself.
“Didn’t—” Caleb starts and then stops, hands flexing on the wheel. “Didn’t Jesse ask you out a couple of months ago?”
I raise an eyebrow at him and I swear he blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.Cute.“It was trivia night,” he mutters. “I’m pretty sure the whole town heard him ask you out.”
That’s right. He practically yelled it into the microphone while I was getting another pitcher of beer. I shrug. “I don’t date anyone within town limits.”
Caleb blinks. “Oh.”
“With my track record, I’m not exactly eager to relive the ghosts of dating past every time I need an artichoke from the grocery store.”
“Is that often?” Caleb’s smile is a slow thing. It starts at one edge of his mouth and tugs until his whole face is alight with it. I can’t stop staring at him, confused and captivated. I need a bucket of cold water over my head. “That you need artichokes?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I’m sure I would.”
We lapse into silence again, the steady rumble of the road beneath us and the hum of something slow and soft on the radio. Exhaustion settles deep in my bones and my shoulders curl in. I am so, so tired. Tired of doing the same thing over and over and getting nothing in return. Caleb is right. I am settling for crumbs.
“I think I’m done,” I declare. These dates are getting me nowhere. Just hardening my heart more and more with every failure. I don’t understand why finding someone is so difficult for me. “No more cake for me. No cupcakes or even … jelly rolls. Strictly vegetables for this gal.”
Caleb doesn’t comment on my determination to carry on with his analogy. He just props his elbow up against the window and rubs his knuckles against his jaw. “If it makes you feel better,” he says. “I haven’t had much luck with dating either.”
I can’t help it. I snort. Caleb with the hair and the face and the dimples and the shoulders. Any of the women at the tiki bar tonight would have happily had dinner with him. I bet when he unbuttons that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt when he gets home, phone numbers fall from it like tiny pieces of confetti.
“I find that very hard to believe.”
“What? Why?” He is the very picture of confusion.
“Look at you.”
“Look at me?”
I broadly gesture at the whole of him. Like Vanna White. Or one of those pretty ladies at the car shows. I feel like I should be holding a cardboard number over my head. Tens across the board. “Look at you.”
A confused smile twists his mouth. He clears his throat. “When was the last time you saw me with someone around town?”
“Besides Alex?”
“Yes, besides my brother.”
I usually see him with his tiny grandmother. His mom and dad, too, at the farmer’s markets on Sundays. An entire fleet of cousins that always seem to be bickering, Caleb trudging along at the very front of the group, trying to keep everyone organized.
“I’m not someone that’s—” He stops abruptly and sighs. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” he mumbles, embarrassed. He takes a deep, fortifying breath and blows it out. “Okay. I’m really bad at dating, I think. Not Peter-with-the-lint-roller bad, but I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe I say the wrong thing, or maybe I’m too hesitant. Or too forward. I have no idea if I’m doing too much or too little. All of my relationships, if you can even call them that, stall out around the fourth date. Even when I think it’s going well.”
“Every time?”
He nods. “Yeah. Every time. Give or take a date.”
