Chapter 3
Sunday afternoons usually saw me lazing around my apartment in a pair of sweatpants, and today was no exception. I had plans to sit on the couch with a bag of chips, a tall, cold glass of iced tea, and see what was currently in my Netflix queue. I was just sitting down on the couch with my remote in hand—and snacks within easy reach—when I spied my cell phone sitting innocuously on the coffee table. For a long moment I stared at it, trying to decide.
“Screw it,” I said out loud, setting down the remote and reaching for the phone.
I’d never called Joshua first. We’d talked a few times since our second date, but he was always the one to call me. I’d texted, but never actually called. But I wanted to talk to him, and my trepidation at being the one to call first was ridiculous. M
