Before We Blew It Up

6| Before

He sighs. "Nope. She says it's too soon."

"I didn't say anything!" I hiss, and he arches his brows like I've just given him an invitation. "But yes, it is too soon."

"She's going to make you wait for weeks, so she knows you're not one of those who's only in it for the gym equipment," Layla explains.

"Gym equipment?"

"You know? When some people only want to bother with someone else so they can 'dirty up the sheets' with them? Basically treating them like gym equipment?"

He makes an 'ah' sound. "No, I'm trying to get your best-friend-slash-non-blood-sister to fall in love with me, I think I'm already halfway there. She's so.... feisty even though she barely reaches my sternum."

"Fall in love with you?" I exclaim, still whispering, even though I know he's just trying to get a rise out of me. Indignantly, I still step on his foot, delighted at the ow he mutters.

"By the end of today. I'm trying to prove to her that you can fall in love in a day if you spend it right, and with the right person."

His words sound serious, and maybe he does mean them, in a roundabout way, but he's also grinning at me, even though I just stomped on his foot.

"Good luck. But Harlow's always hated books with instant love, so I don't know how you're going to accomplish that."

"I have twenty-one hours to get her to fall in love with me, that's not 'instant.' She's given me the whole day to win this challenge, and if I win, I get to put the metaphorical ring on her finger."

Layla's tone turns warning. "I'm giving you the standard speech now. Hurt her, I'll hunt you. Use her, I'll hunt you. Treat her badly, I'll hunt you. I'll make you rue the day you were born, and I'll do it legally, so you're never going to have anything on us." A pause. "Alright Damon, good luck on your Bet of Love, and Harlow, try not to kill him."

I reach over and hang up on the call, my eyes on Damon. "How did 'let me take you on a date' turn into 'I'm going to get you to fall in love with me in under twenty four hours?'"

"It didn't – unless you want it to." He grins, unbashful. "I was sticking out for your friend, you know, since she can't be the only one to have a friend invested in her love life."

"So... you essentially did it to give me a taste of my own medicine."

"When you put it like that... no not really. Maybe it was a low move, and I'm not explaining it properly, but I thought you'd find the whole idea ridiculous and laugh again."

I roll my eyes. "Competitive, huh? You just want to make me laugh. Well, make it up, and maybe I'll tell you my ticklish spot."

I should not be entertaining him and instead do the things I set out to finish today. Glancing down at the box filled with take out containers, the thought of distributing them, fills me with trepidation and makes me wary. Not because I don't want to do it, but because its again that cycle of feeling like I'm not doing enough, or wondering if I'm doing the right thing. And its not about the steorotypes, but often, its something I find scary, and hence why I like to distribute food specifically to shelters or in crowded places, where I feel safer.

Doing that all day again instead of savoring my time, or as Damon put it, seeing what San Francisco has to offer, seems oddly despondent, like turning away from an opportunity and walking in the opposite direction.

"I will always grovel for that kind of information." He sombers up a bit. "I want to see you again."

This date hasn't even begun, and he's already asking me out again. "We haven't even started. You could find out later that I'm the most dry, boring person you've ever met, or vice versa."