The first time I got asked on a proper date, and it was after finding out I was carrying another man’s baby. The universe had a sick sense of humor.
“Why on earth would you want to do that? Look at me.” I gestured to myself. “I’m a disaster.”
His eyes lit up. The corner of his mouth pulled, and something warm and genuine broke across his face that was worse than any laugh because it looked like wonder. Like I was something he’d found and couldn’t believe was real.
“Zadie, I’ve only ever seen you like this.” The amusement settled into something steadier. “You’re not perfect. You’re real. The most gorgeous disaster I’ve ever seen. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
Why did he have to sound so damn sincere?
I wanted to say yes. God, how I wanted to say yes.
But where would that leave us? I’d still be pregnant with a deadbeat’s baby. No matter how big the ball gown or how shiny the glass slippers, my belly would still turn into a pumpkin at midnight.
Or, more accurately, in about seven months.
“I can’t.” It was all I could get out before my throat closed.
“Give me one good reason.”
“I can give you at least three.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “You’re my best friend’s cousin. You know nothing about me except that I’m a cheap drunk. And you’re seven years younger than me.”
I expected horror. Or at least a flinch.
He gave me nothing. Just sat back, fingers casually laced together, looking completely unconcerned.
“What?” I challenged. “Not enough reasons for you?”
“Oh, that’s quite the list. I just don’t think any of them are good.”
I drew myself up to my full, unimpressive height. “Are you serious?”
“Very.” He stood, closing the distance between us until I had to tilt my head to hold his stare. “So, forget your list. If I asked you out right now, properly, what would you say?”
From this close, I could see flecks of silver in his blue eyes. The dark waves that had fallen forward to frame his face, sharpened his jawline. He was all hard edges and smooth angles, and the chain at his throat catching light with each breath only made him edgier somehow.
I wanted to lick a path up his neck, run my teeth along his jaw, and kiss his full mouth again. I bet he’d taste incredible right now.
“You know, when you leave a guy hanging like this, it can do terrible things to his ego.”
“I’ve never been on a real date,” I admitted. Something about him standing this close made lying feel impossible.
“Then it’s destiny.” His mouth curved. “I’ve never been on one either. We can figure it out together.”
The dresser pressed into my lower back, leaving me nowhere to go. “I can’t.”
“It’s not the age thing, is it?” His expression shifted, the intensity dialing back just enough to let me breathe. “Because if it is, we can talk about it.”
“No, Caleb. It’s not your age.”
“New boyfriend?”
“I definitely do not have a boyfriend.” I scrambled for an explanation that didn’t involve the words pregnant or Sean or the phrase my entire life is a dumpster fire. “You’ve just caught me at a really bad time, and I’m not ready to explain why.”
“Fair enough.” He took a step back, giving me the room I desperately needed. “I came on too strong. You’re not feeling well, and I should have paid closer attention.”
I desperately wanted to hear whatever he might say next. But I couldn’t stand the compassion in his voice, and I absolutely could not entertain the idea of dating him. Not now. Not with what I was carrying.
“Let’s drop the awkward. All of it.” I dragged my hand down my face, grimacing at the damp sheen on my palm. “I can’t do regrets anymore, Caleb. I’m drowning in them. Can we just be friends and move forward?”
