“I guess you don’t.” He backed away. “Don’t worry. I don’t know where you live, and I’m not going to try to find out. Like I said in my messages, I came across your channel, started to watch the videos, and liked them.” He left out the part where he listened to her as he fell asleep. She would really be freaked out about that.
She took another step away from him.
“Yeah... this was a horrible idea,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“I don’t know,” she finally said in a timid voice. “It might have been weirder if you hadn’t.” She wrung her hands together. “I get a lot of creeps who message me.”
“I’m not surprised.”
She lifted an indignant brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He held up his hands, palms out. “Just that you’re—” He almost said cute, and if he had he was pretty sure she’d be dialing 911 right now. “Talented. You have a lot of subscribers and tons of comments. Considering the law of averages, you’re bound to have some oddballs reaching out to you.”
She crossed her arms. “What would the law of averages say the chances are that we just happened to be here at the same time?”
“I don’t know.” He dropped his hands. “Never made it past pre-algebra in school. But I’m serious when I say it’s complete chance that we both decided to go to K&Bs today. And I did tell you I wanted to patronize one of your sponsors. I picked this store because it’s local to me.”
“I suppose that could be true.”
This would be an ideal moment for him to hop on his bike, drive away, and forget all about Britt Branch so she could forgetall about him. But as he’d done when making all his decisions since she’d walked into K&Bs, he continued to ignore common sense.
“I can prove it to you. Why don’t we meet back here, let’s say Monday afternoon around two or so. I’ll work on my ten-minute challenge, and I can show you my work in front of X and Maude, so we’ll have witnesses. Until then, I won’t message you online. How does that sound?”
She rocked back and forth on her heels, her gaze remaining on him. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. Two o’clock. Monday, in front of my friends.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Sounds good.” Then he added, “Thanks for giving me a chance.”
Her expression still shuttered, she nodded, then turned and hurried to the store.
He didn’t blame her for running off. He also couldn’t help but smile. He would prove to her he was genuine about learning from her. More importantly, she would see he wasn’t a stalker or a creep.
Then his smile faded when he realized he’d truly committed himself to drawing a seashell in ten minutes. Oh boy. He hopped on his bike and headed back home. He had a lot of practicing to do.
Chapter 8
What am I doing?
Amy sat in her car and stared at the building in front of her. Ike’s Hometown Tavern. She shouldn’t be here. Not only was she absolutely not a tavern type of woman, she also had better things to do on a Saturday night than attend—shudder—a Single Mingles get-together.
The blindingly bright sign to the right of the tavern advertised karaoke Saturdays. She hated karaoke. But she didn’t used to. Daniel had killed that for her too.
Her hands were still on the steering wheel, the engine running. She should just go back home. Britt might have returned from her trip to K&Bs by now, and maybe they could settle in with a movie and some homemade popcorn. Lightly salted, no butter. The way they both liked it.
It had been great to spend time with her today. During the school year, most of Amy’s weekends were spent recovering from the week and doing the never-ending chores around the house. Britt was always a big help with cleaning and yard work. But Amy wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, and she couldn’t afford to hire a lawn service. By Sunday afternoons after church, she was mentally preparing herself for the next school week. Spending a Saturday doing something fun and carefree was a treat, even if she did spend a little more money than she should have.
Listening to karaoke at a tavern did not sound fun. Not even close.
Her phone buzzed and she released her death grip on the steering wheel to look at the text that popped up.
Running late. There’s a table for eight already reserved at the left of the stage so go on in. See you in a bit. Thx.
Amy tossed her phone in her purse and reluctantly shut off the car. Laura was supposed to meet her here, and now she would have to face the singles on her own until her friend showed up. This was the one and only time she was going to do this, and the sole reason was because Laura had been relentless ever since she’d taken over the group. Even though she’d just joined a couple of weeks ago, the former leader had since gotten engaged. Laura was a good choice because she was highly organized. She was also the only one who volunteered.
Amy sighed. Better to get the impending disaster over with than have Laura spoil her summer by constantly insisting that Amy needed to attend their events and have some fun.
“Not going to happen,” she muttered, grabbing her purse and exiting the car. The lot was full, the scent of greasy fried food hung in the air, and she could already hear muffled music coming from the building. A knot formed in her stomach. Unlike Britt—bless her daughter’s heart—Amy had never had a problem with social situations. She loved eating lunch in the faculty lounge, although at times the gossip could get a bit much and that’s when she excused herself, pronto. She enjoyed open house, going to ball games and supporting her students, and she hadn’t missed chaperoning a dance in more than six years. There was even a tradition at prom where everyone did the Ms. Branch Boogie atthe end of the night, with her leading the dance. But meeting single people whose main interest was finding love again? The whole idea made her unfathomably uncomfortable.
Now that she was committed, there was nothing left to do but get it over with. She walked inside and was a little surprised at what she saw. Instead of the darkly lit, alcohol-soaked bar she’d imagined, she could plainly see the tables and chairs that were filled with people talking and laughing. Waitresses and servers wearing red short-sleeved shirts and khaki shorts circulated around the place, which she could see was more restaurant and less nightclub. A pale wood-planked dance floor was in the middle, and an empty stage was up front with a string of colored lights draped over a white curtained background.
