Page 51 of Imperfect Match (Imperfect Match 1)
“I missed you too. That was the hardest part. Knowing you were right there, across the hall, and yet you felt miles away. I had to fight the urge to knock on your door every night.”
“I knew you’d come around.”
I can’t even argue with that. He probably did know. However, I wonder if he’s not plagued by the same fears that I am.
W
ill we be okay if this all falls apart? Can we really endure taking this relationship further only to have it go up in flames?
“Hey.” Reid squeezes my hand. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“That being in your head and making up worst case scenarios.”
Jesus, this is going to be annoying. “You stop being in my head.”
He shakes both hands gently. “Listen, if you doom this from the beginning, guess what’s going to happen? We’ll fail. Not because we’re not good together, but because you already put that shit out into the universe.”
Now I laugh. “You sound like Aspen with your universe talk.”
“Well, even a broken clock is right twice a day. Maybe she’s got a point, and that’s why she and your mom get this whole matchmaking thing.”
“And why I suck at it?”
“I didn’t say that. And look—you did match me. We’re sitting here, holding hands, on a date that neither of us planned to be on.”
“Well, I kind of planned it.”
He grins. “I’ve got plans too.”
“Mind out of the gutter, Reid.”
“Wills.” He sighs. “This is the best first date I could ever hope for. First, we know that we like each other, we’ve been friends for a long ass time. I don’t have to pretend I want to know all about your family, your cat, or whatever the hell crazy shit you’d say.”
“I don’t have a cat. I have plants.”
“I’m saying that we get to skip all the things that men really hate. I already know that you’re smart, funny, you can cook, and we don’t have a thing to worry about in the bedroom. Do we have shit that we need to figure out? Yep. Am I worried about it? Nope. Just relax, please. Don’t start going ten steps ahead of this. Let’s take it day by day.”
“Day by day.” Just saying the words makes me itch. I don’t know how to do that, but he’s right. We already know each other’s best and worst. There are zero issues with him making himself at home with me, and he gives multiples.
I just have to let go.
We’re walking back to our apartments, his arm around my shoulder, my arm around his back, as though this was how it was always meant to be. We fit—perfectly. And our date is perfection.
After that initial talk about my fears, we settled down into just being Willow and Reid. He told me about the account that he got yesterday and I told him about Aspen’s theories on stars and planets.
It was only a few days that we went without talking, but I felt like I missed so much. Of course, we also managed to gorge ourselves on fondue, so instead of taking a cab, we’re trying to walk off some of the calories. Plus, it gives me a reason to touch him like this.
Which I like ... a lot.
“Should we get ice cream?” he asks.
I nod, even though I’m stuffed. “You know I’ll never say no to that.”
“Oh, I know. Don’t think I didn’t realize last month when the half gallon I bought disappeared from my freezer.”
“I don’t even feel bad about that. You steal my food all the time. And in my defense, Leo gave it to me without a fight.”
