“Well, we’ll leave you to it.” Kai grinned. “Nat.”
“Kai,” I said with the tone of a disgruntled teenager. “Simon.”
The two walked away, whispering as if they had a juicy secret.
I lightly drew a sideways oval on the paper. Without thinking, I sketched a bird. A fucking bird.
“So, who do you think is going to win the competition? First person to say themself pays for dinner.” He beamed.
“I don’t know. If it’s not me—and no, that didn’t count—I’d say Lamar. What about you?”
Before he could answer that question, our server arrived with our food. It smelled like perfection, and for a moment, I almost forgot about the competition.
“My money’s on Sawyer. Or Jack.”
Blood rushed in my ears. “Jack.” I stabbed a gyoza with a little too much force.
“Well, I figured it’d come off as pandering if I said you. But if it isn’t one of us, I’d put money on him. He’s pretty ruthless.”
“Ruthless, petty, asinine. Take your pick.” I took another sip of wine, finishing the glass, and Chase bit his lip, probably regretting his choice instantly. “He’s a perpetual annoyance. Oh, and he snores.”
The server dropped our bill on our table, and Chase pulled out his card at the same time as I did. I planned to place it on the bill, but instead of gracefully landing where it belonged, it flung across the table and landed in Chase’s water glass.
I had a feeling I’d completely fucked up this date.
Chase walkedme to my door even though I told him I’d be fine. My previous interactions with him had proven that arguing with him was pointless when it came to chivalry.
The flickering light on Jack’s porch went out suddenly, catching both of our attention and creating a romantic ambience I didn’t think either of us wanted. Chase smiled at what was probably a wince on my part.
“Well, I had a great time,” I said, like you were supposed to. I didn’t want him to read into it.
“Yeah, me too.” The strain in his voice further cemented my failure.
“I’m sorry, I was a bad date,” I blurted.
“You’re not a bad date. You’re just… Look, I’ve been on enough first dates to tell when it’s not going to happen.”
“You have?”
“Let’s just say I’m a hopeful romantic who hasn’t been at the right place at the right time. Yet. But it’s all good. Have a nice night, Nat.”
“You too.” My eyes hadn’t quite adjusted as I reached out a hand to shake his, but he pulled me into a hug with my arm trapped between us, putting the cherry on top of this awkward date sundae.
I opened the screen door, surprised to find Jack pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Had he seen that interaction? God, I hoped not.
“The porch light went out.” I pointed behind me as the screen door creaked shut.
Jack looked up, stunned. “Oh. I’ll get to that.”
Might as well make “I’ll get to that” his middle name. His schedule was challenging, but did he really not see that he was putting off his own needs for those of every other person in this camp?
“You know I can help, right?”
He stared at me, but didn’t respond.
I shrugged, toeing off my shoes, and made my way to the couch, pulling my feet up and massaging my tired instep. I let out a groan and lifted my eyes to find him staring. “Did you want to sit down? I can move over.” I didn’t expect him to take me up on the offer, but he was there in five seconds, and I pulled my feet under me.
He popped the top off a beer and handed it to me before doing the same with his own.
