I hadn’t thought that far ahead. My only real plan this evening is trying to coax my cat out from under my bed. “I’ll probably eat leftovers in front of the TV.”
He gives me a funny look. It takes me a second to figure out why.
“Oh.Oh. Were you serious about us having plans tonight? Like a date?” I thought he was just avoiding Lucy, not that he might actually wantto have dinner together.
His nod is glacier slow. “We should talk about how this is going to go between us.”
I refuse to be disappointed he doesn’t specifically call it a date. Obviously, pretend dates fall into a different category. Gatherings. Assemblies. Meetings. A nice, impersonal congress.
Wait. Not that one.
“Do you want to come to my house? That way we can talk in private without anyone overhearing our nefarious schemes.”
His mouth twitches at the edges. “Good idea. I’ll pick up takeout. What do you like?”
“Oh, whatever you like.”
For some reason, that makes his mouth tip down. “I’m asking what you like.”
“Anything you do. I don’t have food allergies.”
That frustration line I know so well creases between his eyebrows. “But you do have food preferences.”
“Nope. I’ll eat whatever you eat.”
“Five-star spicy Pad Kee Mao?”
“Sure.” I’ve burned the inside of my mouth before, and I can do it again.
“Pizza with nothing but anchovies?”
“Okay.” At least that way, my cat will get a special treat, too.
He frowns harder. “Fried octopus skewers?”
Oh. That sounds horrible. But I don’t like to judge foods other people enjoy. Yucking someone’s yum isn’t cool. I force a smile. “If you want it.”
Reed narrows his eyes at me, his grip tightening on the counter behind him. “What’s happening here? Why are you agreeing to anything I say?”
My parents’ voices echo in my head like a movie montage.Be agreeable. Men don’t like to be contradicted. Telling guys what you want makes you look high maintenance.They’ve offered me similar dating advice since I was sixteen years old.
“I’m being polite,” I tell him.
I haven’t measured, but I think we just reached Reed’s Maximum Frown Level.
My parents have instilled in me for years that I need to go along to get along. I’ve tried especially hard when it comes to the men I date. But how will I figure out how to do that with someone who seems to hate getting along?
10
reed
I showup at the address Rose gave me with a takeout bag in my arms. She refused to give me a preference for dinner, so I ordered us curries and spring rolls from the Thai place on Second Street. I overheard her rave to Troy about their curry once, but since I can’t remember if she specified a type, I brought three kinds.
She pulls her front door open and greets me with a smile. “You’re right on time.”
Good thing because I’m going to need a minute. Probably several. We keep the dress code casual in the coffee shop, but she always looks pulled together. Professional, but temptingly soft in her cute dresses and loose, billowy tops.
But like this? Her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, wearing shorts and an oversized graphic T-shirt with flowers on it that saysBloom where you’re planted? She’s every dream I’ve ever had.
