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Chapter twelve

Hazel

I stare at the recliner that just got delivered, wondering what the hell I was thinking.

“Hello?” Laney answers after the second ring.

“I bought a chair.”

“Okay, that’s one way to start a conversation.”

I kick the dark gray recliner like it personally offended me and scowl as it rocks back and forth mockingly. “I bought a recliner for my husband and now I’m really regretting that choice.”

“I feel like you need to bring me up to speed before launching into discussions about random furniture purchases.”

Sighing, I sit down in the recliner and instantly feel relaxed. “Some things have happened, Laney, and I don’t know what to think.”

“Did his dick fall into your vagina already?”“What? No!” Her laughter fills the line. “This isn’t funny.”

“It kind of is, but I can tell by your tone that you’re not interested in my comedic genius right now, so I’ll reel it in.”

“Yes, please.”

“Fine. What’s going on? ”

I exhale, rocking gently. “My husband and I went on a date two weeks ago. It was…confusing.”

“Confusing how?”

Blueberry jumps onto my lap as I continue to rock. “Well, we started getting letters.”

I relay the story, explaining the letters from Diane, the stipulations and the unexpected push toward something neither of us saw coming.

Laney whistles. “Damn. This woman was hell-bent on setting the two of you up, wasn’t she?”

“Apparently so. And our date was…”

“Where did you go?”

“Well, first, he insisted we ride on his motorcycle.”

“Is that code for his dick?”

“No, Laney! He actually drives a motorcycle. Now focus, please.”

“Noted. Continue.”

I let out a sigh. “The ride was exhilarating, and then he held my hand—because the letter said to—we shared a meal, and we went to the thrift store to complete the photo shoot. But while we were there, he got a phone call.”

“Okay…”

“From someone named Miranda.”

“Sounds like a woman’s name.”

“Right?”

“You said he hasn’t made a move on you yet, right?”

“Well, not exactly...” I think back to our kiss last week, contemplating if I would classify that as something Gage wanted to do, or something he felt compelled to.

“Then he either has a girl back in Florida, or he’s gay.”

“I know he’s not gay.”

“How?”

“ Because I felt his dick get hard when he kissed me in front of my ex.”

Laney whistles again. “Whoa! Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Give me a play-by-play.”

I spend the next several minutes telling her about Nathan showing up at the studio, Gage acting all territorial, and the explosive kiss.

“And how did you feel about the kiss, about him calling himself your husband?”

“Disgusted,” I say, not believing the words myself as they slip out of my mouth.

Laney snorts. “Yeah, okay. Try selling that lie to someone else.”

Groaning, I lie back in the chair and pop up the footrest as Blueberry curls up in a ball between my legs. “I honestly don’t know what to think, especially because the only reason he was at my studio to begin with was because he brought me apology socks.”

“Okay. Now that’s actually adorable.”

I smile, remembering how embarrassed he seemed when he gave them to me. “It kind of was, but it was confusing too—things got intense after our date.”

“So was that what he was apologizing for?”

“Yes. I finally confronted him about the day we met. All of the details of our date, the way we fought and laughed, and then that mysterious Miranda…it just all kind of came to a head and I broke.”

Confronting Gage about the day we first met was only a matter of time, but I certainly didn’t anticipate his reaction. For a moment, I swear I saw remorse in his eyes, regret mixed with guilt—and that only made me feel guilty for falling apart on him.

He never could have known what that day meant to me, but after the thrift store and him finding the wind chime, I couldn’t stop thinking about the circumstances that brought us together.

It felt too strong to ignore anymore—just like my growing attraction to him.

“Well, that’s to be expected. You guys are navigating a tricky situation.”

“I know. But then I went and bought him a chair.”

“Yes, the chair that started this phone call. Why did you buy it again?” I recall the conversation we had about something that would make Gage feel more comfortable in my place.

“I see. So, what’s the problem? He did something nice for you, and you did something nice for him.”

“I know, but he gets so touchy—always sure to remind me this is temporary. He’s so closed off. I want to know him better, but every time I think he’s actually going to open up, he shuts down. Like the other day when kids came up.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he used to want kids, but now it’s not in the cards.”

“Okay, that’s cryptic.”

“Right? And he didn’t elaborate. Add in the mysterious phone call and I’m not sure what to think or feel right now.”

Laney exhales, like she’s turning it over in her head. “Damn, Hazel. I’m confused too. Why would he be so quick to claim you in front of your ex but push you away every time you start to get closer?”

“I know. It makes me think he’s hiding something.”

“I hate to say it, but I think you may be right. Another possibility here is that he’s developing feelings for you and it’s scaring him.”

“You think?”

“I mean, you said yourself you’ve seen his reaction to you. And kissing you? He didn’t need to do that.”

I think back to our kiss last week, how unexpected it was, how good it felt to feel his lips on mine again.

How right it felt too.

I’ve kissed a lot of guys, but I’ve never felt the electricity that I have with Gage.

And it’s not just the physical. It’s the way he stands up for me, challenges me, makes me laugh, and anticipate our evenings together after a long day that turns my stomach in knots.

And that’s the number one problem—he said no feelings and I’m already developing them.

“No, I can’t go there, no matter how badly I wonder what he would be like in bed.”

Laney laughs. “If you hadn’t been wondering that, I would be more concerned.”

I groan. “This is going to be the longest six months of my life.”

“Hey, you’re already a month and a half in. Just keep doing what you’re doing. If he’s going to be closed off, let him. If he pushes you, push back.”

“Oh, believe me. I have been.”

“And if he wants to go full caveman and protect you from a shitty ex, then let him. Maybe a little danger will make him realize how incredible you are, and then…”

I don’t hear the rest of what she says because Gage walks through the front door, and his eyes immediately lock onto me like I’ve committed a crime.

“Hazel?” His voice comes out tight, edged with suspicion.

“Hey, Laney… I gotta go.”

“Okay, but call me when you two have sex!” she yells through the phone as I scramble to hang up.

I scoop Blueberry from my lap and set him on the ground, standing as Gage steps further inside.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, pointing to the recliner.

I b link dramatically. “This? This is what most people call a chair , Gage. It’s a place to sit after a long, hard day.”

His expression remains flat, his tone dripping with disbelief. “Did you get this for me?” He takes a tentative step closer to the recliner, like he’s afraid it might come to life and swallow him whole.

“I did.”

He turns to face me, his green eyes full of something I can’t quite place. “Why?”

“Well, as you know, the thrift store didn’t have any ottomans…so I ordered this instead.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He takes another step, closing the space between us. “ Why did you buy this?”

I lift my chin, refusing to break eye contact. “Because I want you to be comfortable here.”

His jaw flexes, and his eyes bounce back and forth between mine for so long, I wonder if we’re going to stand here all night. Finally, he clears his throat, blinking himself back to reality. “You didn’t have to do this.”

I shrug. “I know I didn’t.”

His lips press into a thin line. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

Crossing my arms, I reply, “When are you going to learn that telling me what to do isn’t going to work out well for you?”

He scoffs and pushes a hand through his hair. “Listen, I’ve told you—I’m leaving as soon as our time is up. You shouldn’t be making decisions based on me.”

“Oh my God, Gage. It’s just a chair.”

My chest is heaving, my pulse hammering, and my eyes burn with angry tears. This isn’t the reaction I thought I’d get over a damn recliner. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised—this man is so hot and cold, I never know which version of him I’m going to get.

One day, he’s closed off and distant. The next, he’s kissing me breathless in my studio.

I reach down and pick Blueberry up, turning toward my bedroom. “If it offends you so much, you don’t have to use it.”

I wait for him to say something. Anything.

But he doesn’t.

And I remind myself that it’s for the best.

The more we avoid each other, the less likely I am to fall for a man who’s already got one foot out the door.

***

The sound of the doorbell ringing pulls me from my coloring book. I should be editing, but my focus has been shit for the past few days, especially after Gage’s reaction to the recliner.

He could have at least said “thank you,” but since then, I’ve barely gotten two full sentences out of him.

Marriage. What a dream.

Standing from the couch, I walk over and open the front door. Once again, there’s no one there, and my eyes drop to the doormat, where a crisp pink envelope rests on top of a brown cardboard box.

“Just great.”

I take the box into the kitchen and remove the envelope from the top, setting it to the side before opening the package and pulling out a small box labeled, Truth or Dare for Couples.

Seriously, Diane?

Staring at the box, I can already picture Gage’s reaction when he gets home.