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Kayden’s face blanks. “For what?”
“For my date.”
The confusion is immediate, but it bleeds away pretty darn fast into what I expected. Jealously and maybe even a bit of anger and annoyance. Kayden’s lips curl back like a dog with a T-bone steak even though he tries to keep it from not doing so, which makes it look all floppy. Why is that attractive? Yeah, he’s obviously upset as shit about that bit of news.
Sadie came through big time on this one, and I seriously owe her. I turn and walk down the sidewalk, swaying my hip a little more than I should before I turn and wave at Kayden, all girly fingers and batting lashes. I feel inordinately smug as I take my exit back into the house.
Those smug feelings last all the way through a change of clothes and a freshening up of my hair and makeup. It lasts up until about two seconds after my date pulls into the driveway. This guy thinks it’s a real blind date, and he’s chosen to wear a tux. Yes, an actual tux, complete with a bowtie. It also happens to be neon orange. Simon, I think that’s what Sadie said his name was, went for the whole look. His dark hair is parted and slicked back with something that resembles old deep fryer oil, but he’s actually quite good looking with the classic square jaw and a strong brow. He also brought me a massive bouquet of flowers, which was sweet.
I’m wearing a flirty, very short, flowy emerald green dress, and I did my hair into a messy knot at the nape of my neck before adding another layer of mascara and fresh red lipstick. I even chose heels, and I hate heels. Despite my date’s pumpkin hued suit, I step outside, exclaim over the flowers, tuck them into a vase, then take his arm and walk rapidly toward the car.
Simon seems entirely flabbergasted by the whole thing.
As I slide into the passenger seat of something that resembles an actual metal box—it’s so small—my eyes stray to Kayden’s house. I intended it to be like waving the bird, but I know that’s probably not what was conveyed in my gaze. My hand also trembles on the seatbelt when I catch sight of Kayden. He’s outside, leaning up against the house, beside the front door, shamelessly creeping on me. He doesn’t bother with hiding his overly sulky expression, and sulky on Kayden looks way too dark, broody, and hot. I don’t like it. Or the shiver that races up my legs and blooms right between them like a fresh rose opening up to the delights of a sunny spring day. I’m not even going to go into detail about dew on the petals.
No way. I’m going to concentrate on my date. And how wonderful it’s going to be.
Actually, as it turns out, it’s not wonderful. Rather, it’s incredibly boring. It’s pretty clear neither Simon nor I have anything interesting to say to one another, and both of us are having a shitty time. Plus, our outfits clash in the most horrendous of ways. I’m not a green and orange person. Never have been, never will be. Sorry, but I just can’t do it.
In the end, we decided to cut our losses after the appetizers. I pay for my share, and we ended the date. We’ve only been gone for forty-five minutes, and I don’t want Kayden to know the date was a disaster, so I ask Simon to drop me off at a coffee shop down the block. I spend as much time as possible savoring a chai tea latte, browsing my phone for free catalogs to sign a certain someone up to, and cursing someone to the nine, ten, or twenty, or however many realms of hell there might be.
After an hour at the coffee shop, I catch a cab back to my house because I figure it will increase the mystery of the date. Kayden will have to wonder why I didn’t get dropped off.
I pay the driver and step out. It’s still not dark, but it is getting to that nice, dusky, sunset phase of the day that I happen to really enjoy. With a small smile, I totter on the stupid heels right up to my door. I don’t know why I pause and look over at Kayden’s house, but I do.
He’s there, still leaning up against the house, watching. But not a creepy sort of watching. Just a casual, brow cocked kind of watching. He no longer looks surly. No, I’d say the big wrinkle creasing his forehead is actually concern. Like he wanted to make sure I got home okay. He couldn’t have watched the whole time I was gone, could he? He probably saw the cab coming down the block and dashed out the front door to resume his statue-like pose.
