“It seemed like trying new foods was maybe something you wanted to keep doing...” He shifts, and there’s a flicker of doubt on his face that almost gives him away. Maybe Miles isn’t the always-confident charmer he pretends to be.
“No, yeah, it is.” I step aside so he can come in.
He laughs. “Spoken like a true Midwesterner. ‘No, yeah’ means ‘yes,’ so I’ll take it.”
He steps past me, but close enough to brush up against me as he enters. Either he doesn’t notice he did it, or doesn’t react, but the brief touch shoots electricity from my spine to my fingertips. Which is ridiculous. I’m not a teenager, for Pete’s sake.
He sets the bags down on the counter. “This okay?”
I gather myself and manage a “No, yeah, totally,” and then groan at myself for repeating the same thing I just said. “I’m kind of on a mission to try a bunch of new things.”
I didn’t mean to admit that, but it’s out there now, and it seems that Miles is intrigued.
“Really?” he asks. “Like what?”
“Um, like”—I shrug, trying to avoid answering—“Indian food.”
His eyes narrow. “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me. But I already know dating is on that list, and that’s why I’m here.” He starts to unpack the bags on the counter, then looks up.
I’m still standing awkwardly by the door.
There’s a man who isn’t my husband in my apartment. A very good-looking man who has, on more than one occasion, made my insides swirl.
I suddenly feel strange about this whole scenario.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Am I being too pushy? I do that. I tend to act like I’ve known people a lot longer than I have.” Hetakes a step back from the counter like a chef onChoppedwhen time’s just been called.
I walk over to the kitchen and stand on the opposite side of the counter from him. “Why are you doing this?”
He looks down at the bags on the counter. “Uh... because I’m hungry?”
“Not the food,” I say. “The dating app. Minnie said you guys have been texting back and forth and that you’re taking this very seriously. Like you’re serious about making sure I go out with decent guys.”
“I told you. The first date after a divorce is a serious thing,” he says with an air of confident experience.
“But it’s not your job to watch out for me.”
He nods. “You’re right. It’s not.”
I move my hands to indicate,So?
He holds my gaze for a three-count, then his eyes go wide. “Can’t a guy do something nice for his friends?”
“It’s just a lot of trouble to go to for someone you don’t really know.”
He shrugs it off. “What can I say—I’m an all-in sort of guy.”
I cock my head and study him. “Judging by your relationship status, we both know that’s not true.”
He looks like he’s about to protest, but then he smiles and doesn’t say anything. He just reaches in and takes out the food, opening a few foam boxes.
It smellsamazing.
He must notice the look on my face, because he says, “Yeah. I know. Just wait till you taste it.” He glances at me. “And just so you know, you don’t have to know someone well to do something nice for them.”
Well, shoot.
Miles might be one of the good ones.
