The restaurant where he had met Willow.
He almost balked at the location when LeLoup suggested it. He probably should've chosen something else. But nope, he wentalong with it anyway. It was another way he was subconsciously sabotaging this date apparently.
Thatcher crossed the street, heading towards the restaurant when a woman walked out of the entrance of the apartment building he was walking by. Normally, he wouldn't pay much attention. This was Chicago after all and like any big city, he kept his head down and moved along. But there was something that seemed sort of familiar about this woman. He watched as she stood there typing a message on her phone and then tucked her hair behind her ear.
Thatcher stopped. He could see her face now. He knew exactly who it was. Willow.
He could feel his breath hitch in his chest. He hadn't seen her since that night. She had been haunting his thoughts. And all this time, she had only been a block away?
"Thunder!"
Thatcher turned to the car that was driving by, the passenger sticking his head out the window and waving at him. He instinctively waved like he always did as the guy gave him a "Woo!" and the car drove on.
When Thatcher turned back, Willow was staring at him. She had seen him. He tried to smile at her, but it felt so strange. He had no problem playing football in front of 80,000 people, but he felt nervous in front of this one woman.
She just stood there without moving as he tried his best swagger that probably looked more awkward than anything. And as he got closer to her, he could see the flecks of brown and green in her hazel eyes that were still fixated on him.
"Hi," he said with a smile that still felt weird.
"Hi."
Her eyes stared at him as if she was seeing a ghost or something, as if she was looking at someone she couldn't believe was standing in front of her.
"Uh, hi."
Totally awkward, so totally awkward. It was like those times when he was standing in front of the reporters after a game and someone asked him a question he never anticipated. It would be one of those questions where he had to scramble to come up with some semblance of an answer. That's how this felt.
Maybe he should spill his guts to Willow and put everything out there now. What's the worst she could do? Reject him? Well, that would probably be bad.
"Willow, right?" She just nodded, so he took that as a good sign. "I don't know if you remember, but I'm Thatcher."
"I remember," she said without taking her eyes of him.
"Uh… So I know this sounds crazy and very blunt, and I have to go… somewhere right now. But I want to see you again."
"Me?"
"Yeah."
She looked stunned. "Uh, OK?"
He gave her a smile, hoping it would put her at ease. He didn't want to scare her or make her feel awkward. He liked being with her that night after all. The only awkward part was when he woke up alone.
"So, dinner or drinks or coffee or whatever you want. Let's meet up and do something."
Ugh. He sounded so flustered and juvenile. It felt worse than when he asked Sheila Monroe to the prom in high school. But dammit, Willow was under his skin and he couldn't help it.
Thatcher watched as she pulled her eyes away from him and started digging in her purse before she pulled out a small notepad and a pen.
"You carry paper with you?" he asked.
"I like to write down notes on paper instead of my phone."
"I hope there aren't any other phone numbers from other guys in there."
He was trying to be flirtatious or get some information from her like if she had a boyfriend or something. But Willow stayed focused on the paper. Then she ripped the page out and held it up to him without a word.
"Thanks," he tried to say with a reassuring smile. "I promise I won't give it to one of those guys that calls you about your car warranty."
