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Kayla smiled, but it seemed fake, which made me question why she’d even wanted to go on this date in the first place. It wasn’t my freakin’ idea. We’d barely spoken in her car on the way to the restaurant, and what we did say felt forced and awkward.
“Okay.” She watched me wiping my hands on my thighs as I carefully tried to avoid getting the sticky yuck on my hat in my lap. “Would you like to go somewhere else?”
One point for her. She could read the room. Maybe the night was salvageable. Maybe cute Kayla could be my person. I looked up and unleashed on her what those terrible friends called “the full Abey experience.” I flashed her the biggest smile I could. “Yeah? You wanna get outta here, find somewhere we can share a big ol’ steak?”
She made a disgusted face, shaking her head. “You want to share food? And actually, I don’t eat meat.”
Aaand nope. “Welp”—I popped my lips—“I don’t really like food without it.”
“Is that a metaphor for, like, your sexuality? Are you bi or maybe just questioning?”
“Huh? A metaphor?” I didn’t mean to do it, but a snort escaped me. “No. I just like steak. Beef, really, all kinds. I’m not real particular.” I felt the need to explain further because she was looking at me like she didn’t understand English. “Y’know, like, hamburger, meatloaf, chili?”
Now she was gaping at me like I’d grown two extra heads, and that was when I knew for sure I needed to get out of this ridiculous restaurant and run for the hills. I wasn’t the richest person in the world, but I stood and pulled a fifty from my pocket. I set it on the table next to the drink I hadn’t touched. “Sorry. Drinks are on me, but I, uh?—”
She blinked two more times in confusion. Had she never been dumped before? Probably not. She was beautiful, if you went for the perfect, no-hair-out-of-place thing, but c’mon. We clearly weren’t compatible. Had about zero things in common. Wasn’t that obvious at this point? According to her, in her saltine-beige Hyundai on the way here, cute Kayla’s hobbies were shopping and making TikTok videos. She couldn’t be more opposite of me if she tried. I liked getting dirty, hiking and mudding, and I got the feeling that if she got a speck of dust on her shirt, she’d scream.
I wanted something different. Was that so wrong?
“I gotta go.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, grabbing my hand as I tried to make my escape. Now, she was batting her spider-leg eyelashes at me and stroking the inside of my wrist with her middle finger. “I mean, we could go straight for the good stuff, if you want.”
“The good stuff?”
“Sex,” she said, pursing her lips, and the corners tilted up a little.
Yikes. That had been a little too loud for my liking. I looked around, but it didn’t seem like anyone had heard her. No one scoffed or made the sign of the cross over their chest. It was what my mama would’ve done, even though she wasn’t anywhere near Catholic. In my opinion, she wasn’t even a good Christian sometimes. Not that I was an expert on church. I hadn’t stepped foot in one since the ninth grade.
“You’re really sexy,” Kayla said, looking at my chest again. “We could go back to my place.”
Ah. And here was why she’d agreed to the date. I wasn’t opposed to some good ol’ strings-free down and dirty, though it wasn’t my usual MO. But then again, I didn’t really have an MO. But then she blinked again, and I felt the urge to swat at her eyes with a rolled-up newspaper.
I pulled my arm from her grasp carefully. I didn’t want to be rude, but her come-on was giving me the heebie-jeebies. “No, thank you. Sorry for wastin’ your time. Have a good night.”
I almost ran out the door. I snatched my phone from my back pocket as I went, and as soon as I cleared the building, I popped my hat back on my head. The hat I wore every day. The same one everybody in my life who loved me didn’t seem to have a problem with, but this chick, cute Kayla, had been eyeing like it offended her personally. Jackson, Wyoming was the wrong place for her if a Stetson wasn’t in her fashion vocabulary. Besides, I had Instagram. Cowboy hats were all the rage with the trendy women set these days. Mine had become a little more worn-in and sweat-stained than the hats girls like Kayla wore on IG, but the point was, I liked my damn hat!
I called Sam, and as soon as she answered, I scolded her. “You and Juneau made me come on this date, so you better put your butt in a car and come get my dumb ass.”
“Oh no,” she said. “It’s not going well?”
“Ain’t goin’ at all. Just come get me.”
She winced in my ear, sucking in air through her teeth. “I can’t, Abey. I’m so sorry. The kids and I are babysitting for Carly tonight. They didn’t leave me a car seat for little Donny, and Frank’s working your shift.”
Dammit. “I’ll call a cab.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s way too far. That would cost a fortune.”
True. “I’ll call Juneau.”
“She’s out of town. Remember? She has that conference thing this weekend. Why don’t you try Phil or Cal?”
“I’m not callin’ those two old biddies. Neither one of ’em should be drivin’, ’specially not after dark.” Groaning, I looked up at the sky, cursing my friends silently. Oh, book club would be hearing about this. They were the assholettes who’d arranged this date. “Alright. I’ll figure it out. Bye.”
“Abey, can’t you call the station?—”
I hung up. I felt terrible about it. It wasn’t like me, but I’d apologize when I saw Sam at the library tomorrow.
