“Ro . . . man . . . uh . . .”Romantic.I couldn’t get my mouth to say that word, for some reason.
“Candles. Flowers. Chocolates,” Mark continued.
“Yes, I know what it means.” I ran my hand through my hair. “But I doubt there are going to be any—”
“Hello?” A voice made us both turn. It was Zack. And he was standing there in the doorway . . . with a bunch of flowers. A big, red bunch of fracking flowers. My heart sank.
“Like I said . . .” Mark whispered under his breath.
“Wow, you look amazing.” He stepped forward and held the flowers out for me.
“Uh . . . thanks.” I took them and then Zack planted a kiss on my cheek! I tried not to pull away, as I kept my eyes firmly on Mark. Who rolled his. My skin felt hot and itchy and it wasn’t from the kiss.
“These are really pretty, thanks.” I swung my head and looked around the room. “I need a vase . . .” I glanced at Mark, who seemed to be eyeing the flowers with great suspicion. He held his hand out and my eyes traveled down to it. God, this was awkward.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Tentatively, I handed my bunch of romantic red flowers to Mark.
“Thanks, man,” Zack said. I couldn’t help but notice that Mark rolled his eyes again before walking off towards the kitchen.
“Have fun,” he called after us as he disappeared around the door.
“We will,” Zack shouted and then shot me a very cute and dimply smile. But no matter how cute and melty his smile was, all I could think about was Mark’s smile. I really didn’t want to go on this date. But Mark wasn’t exactly giving me a reason not to. So I went.
CHAPTER 59
I crept up the driveway, but it was hard to creep on it—being made from small stones that moved under the soles of your feet and all. I was home late. Despite the fact the date had totally sucked. Turns out that Zack only knew how to talk about his sheep. Conversation never seemed to move on from the dipping of them, the shearing of them, and why Karoo sheep were superior to other sheep. I’d not been able to shut him up, hence the fact I was coming home much later than originally anticipated. The lateness was in no way indicative of the fact I’d had a good time.
I was just about to take the curve that led towards the back of the house, when a light flicked on. It made me jump. “Crap!” I gasped in fright when I saw Mark sitting cross-legged in the daybed. The light shone down on him, making him look like someone in an interrogation room.
“You’re home late,” he said in a tone that didn’t give much away.
“Am I? I hadn’t noticed that . . . really?”
“How was your date?” Still, that tone.
“It was okay,” I said dismissively.
He stood up and took a step towards me. Even though we were still far apart and it was dark, I could see there was an intensity in his eyes that made me stand a little straighter.
“Okay?” he repeated.
I nodded. “Yes. Okay.” I don’t know why I said this, it was just automatic. Like when someone asks you how you are and you say fine even though you’re not.
“Okay . . . good?” He took another step closer to me.
“Sure.” I nodded. “I guess. Sort of . . .” I also took a step towards him.
“How good?” he asked. He had stopped at the top of the stairs now, and I was at the bottom looking up at him. The light from the porch light framed him, making him look bigger and darker than he really was. He was looming over me, and so were his loaded questions.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“On a scale of one to best-date-ever-I-am-in-love, where would you say it falls?” he asked.
“Well, I would say it was . . . uh . . .” I looked up at him and squinted.Why the hell was he asking me all these questions?What business did he have asking me how my date was, when he’d encouraged me to go?
I put my hands on my hips and then glared up at him defiantly. “Why are you asking me this? My date has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
