“Can you just leave?” I ask.
“No. I already ordered the chicken.”
I let out a noise that’s a cross between a harrumph and a growl. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’ve been called worse,” he says, holding his hands up, palms out.
“Just go away,” I say, stalking toward the door, my heels clicking on the black-and-white tile floor.
He starts to follow me out, but I turn back to him. “I’m leaving this bathroom first. Then you count to ten before you leave.”
“Should I untuck my shirt? Muss my hair?”
I scrunch my face. “You wish.”
Then I open the door and walk out. I count to ten in my head as I go back to my table, and just as I hit the last number, I hear the bathroom door open behind me.
At least he can take some instruction.
“Sorry about that,” I say before taking my seat across from my date.
“No problem,” Tanner says, giving me a warm smile. It’s such a contrast to the smug one Luke was just giving me.
I’m not going to waste another minute of this date thinking about that jerk.
Our food comes not long after that, and Tanner and I settle into a nice discussion over dinner, and I keep my focus on him and not freaking Luke Wilder.
And itisa nice discussion. But that’s it. Just . . . nice. Which is annoying, because from what I’ve seen of Tanner so far, he’s checking all the boxes. Funny, thoughtful, a great listener, successful. Someone I could definitely go on date number two with. But there’s also something that’s just not working. I can’t put my finger on what it is, exactly, but it’s there.
He knows it too, because after Bailey and crew have left the restaurant, and Luke too—after giving me a lazy salute on his wayout the door—Tanner walks me to my car, and I get the feeling that this a one and done for both of us.
“Thanks for meeting me tonight,” he says as we approach my car and I unlock it with my key fob, the headlights and taillights flashing in response.
“Thanks for asking me out,” I tell him.
“Can I ask you something?” he asks, his eyes on me.
“Sure,” I say.
“Was it me? Or were you distracted at dinner?”
“Oh,” I say, realizing that, along with all the qualities that I like about Tanner, he’s also perceptive. And here I thought I was doing a good job of ignoring Luke. But I guess my wandering eyes were more obvious than I thought.
It’s just like Luke to ruin what could have been a perfectly good date.
“I’ve just got some work stuff on my mind, that’s all.” It’s the truth. Mostly. Well, I can’t say:I’ve just got some other guy on my mind, but don’t worry, it’s not what you’re thinking. I actually hate him.
“I understand,” he says. He takes a few steps away, pulling his car keys from his pocket. “Maybe we can do this again sometime when you’re not so busy with work.”
Translation: Have a nice life, Claire.
“Yeah,” I say. “Definitely.”
I give him a wave, and he turns around and heads to his car, and that will be the last I see of Tanner.
Back at home I’m sprawled out on the green couch, looking at the dinner photos of Bailey and friends on my phone, Sam sitting on the other end. I’ve just given her the whole rundown of dinner. The date that could have been, and Luke showing up and ruining it.
“It’s weird to hear you talk about Luke Wilder again,” she says.
