“Great.” Banks interrupted almost like he wanted to get the yes before he bolted away from us at top speed. “I’ll text.”
He was gone in seconds, leaving me alone with a very irritated-looking Rip and a half-eaten bag of the popcorn that was already starting to sit heavily in my stomach.
Rip didn’t say anything as we both walked out of the theater and toward his car. He at least opened the door for me, letting me go through first, then opened the passenger-side door to the car and shut it.
See? Manners even when he was irritated.
I ignored the pain in my chest as he walked around the car and got in.
I checked my phone to see if things were going OK with Mrs. Harris and saw a reminder to make Ben’s cupcakes.
“Did you make Ben’s cupcakes for tomorrow?”
“Shoot.” Rip took a turn and pulled into the grocery store parking lot, then cut the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. “You find more stuff for the gluten-free, soy-free, fun-free cupcakes so they don’t taste like shit, and I’ll get milk.”
“You forgot sugar-free,” I added. “And dairy-free.”
“What are we going to put in them? Air?” He seemed frustrated, but I knew it wasn’t about the cupcakes.
“Hey, Rip.” I fell into step with him. “If you don’t want me to go on a date with Banks I won’t. Honestly, he’s just a friend anyway.” I frowned. “And I could be totally off base, but you seem more prickly than usual, like a pet porcupine that just shed all of their quills.”
“Yeah, he definitely doesn’t see you as a friend, Colby. Also that would make me a naked porcupine, so thanks for that analogy.”
I laughed and gave him a little shove. “You know what I meant.”
Some of the tension left his shoulders as he stopped walking next to me and hung his head. “I don’t know what sane man would see you as just a friend.” He cursed under his breath. “You’re like a fucking hurricane—a chaotic beautiful mess of waves and wind, powerful, daunting, and any guy—especially ones like Banks—would risk his life during the storm just to see if he can survive it.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Had he just said what I thought he’d said? Goose bumps rose all over my body as I waited for him to say more. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut, and I knew stress had sent him over the edge, he’d meant to keep the words in his head but had blurted them out instead. His body language had gone from smooth, arrogant, confident, to suddenly panicked as he licked his lips, bit down, then shoved a hand in his pocket only to pull it out.
“I’m confused.” I nudged him again. “Am I killing him, or is he just getting rained on?” I asked with a laugh.
Rip smirked and turned to me. “I wouldn’t mind if you killed him.”
I shoved him lightly. “Be mature.”
“I’m always mature, that’s probably the problem. See, Banks is the type of guy that goes into a grocery store and probably thinks, You know what would be fun? A produce aisle race. I’m the type of guy who goes into the grocery store and says, ‘Oh, look, beef’s on sale.’”
I burst out laughing. “Are you calling yourself boring?”
“I’m calling myself reliable. And maybe sometimes boring, too mature for my own good… Monica always—” He stopped himself, closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and opened them again. “Monica always knew what to do to get me out of my shell, and now it just feels like things are closing in even more.” He sighed. “And shit, I did not mean to just dump all of my emotions onto you like that. I’m sorry, let’s just get the food and go. I’m fine, everything’s fine, it’s been a long day and even longer night with one of my best friends watching you eat popcorn instead of the movie for two and a half painful hours.”
“Was it really that awful?” I asked.
“If awful means there was a moment I nearly lost all sanity and control and smacked the popcorn out of your hands, then yeah, it was that awful.”
“Are we having a moment here?” I teased. We were literally flirting in the middle of the produce section, and it felt more like a date than the movie had. “You know, where you’re opening up and actually talking about your feelings… insecurities, that sort of thing?”
“Do not”—he pointed a finger at me—“get used to it.”
His eyes flickered to my mouth again before he jerked his head away. “We should probably”—he gulped—“find… things.”
Insecure Rip might be my new favorite. He’d started walking away when I grabbed him by the arm.
“Wait!” He stopped, and I jerked my hand away. “You know, now that you mention it… a little race might be fun. But you know what would be more fun?” I was either going to crash and burn or this would be another moment when I could get him out of his shell—the way Monica used to.
I could have sworn I heard her laugh, felt her warm smile, and wondered if there wasn’t one more reason they’d decided to leave the kids to both of us.
One very important reason.