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“Well, I went to college when I was seventeen after graduating early, but I always knew what I wanted to be.” I nodded like I understood her. “A principal.”
I blinked, not having expected her to say that. Who goes into this job not wanting to teach kids but to just run a school? “Oh, so, you never wanted to teach?”
“God, no.” She waved her hand in the air as if she was swatting away a fly. “I can’t deal with a classroom full of kids who don’t want to learn. I’d rather be in a beautifully decorated office running the entire school.”
“Right.” I tried to keep the grin off my face, but it was impossible. I was sure she thought I was grinning at her, but it was so far from the truth. I was grinning at the absurdity of it. “And you’re on track to do that?” I asked, glancing around and wondering when our food would be here. The quicker it came, the sooner I could drop her home and then go and open a six-pack of beer and watch TV.
“I was.” She sighed and took another drink of her wine, nearly emptying the glass. “Until Jasmine moved in with me.”
“Oh?” I was giving her just enough to keep her talking about herself.
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes and looked so much like her sister doing it that I raised my brows. “She got into some trouble at home last year, so Mom and Dad kicked her out, which meant she had to come and stay with me. Not that I can control what she does—she basically uses my house as a hotel.” She blew out a breath and drank the last of her wine as our plates were set on the table in front of us. “Can I have a refill?” she asked the waiter, and he nodded in reply.
I stared down at my pasta dish, groaning at the smell of the creamy sauce and pasta combination.
“What about you?” Willow asked, impaling her fork on some lettuce leaves. “Do you have any siblings.”
I twirled my fork into my pasta. “A brother and a sister,” I told her and then filled my mouth with my food. The creamy sauce tickled my taste buds and the pasta was perfectly cooked. The food would definitely be the highlight of my evening.
“Really?” I could hear her crunching on her salad, but I didn’t take my eyes off my pasta. “I’d have pegged you for an only child.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her I’d lived the first sixteen years of my life as an only child, but that would mean giving her more information about me, and that was something I didn’t want to do. “Nope,” I said instead, and looked up at her. “My sister is eight, and my brother is four. They’re cool kids.”
Willow grimaced, and I had no doubt she didn’t think any kind of kids were cool. She hadn’t met them yet, though—and if I had my way, she never would. “That’s…nice.”
I hummed in agreement and shoveled more pasta into my mouth, trying to think of anything I could ask her to keep her talking, but I was coming up empty. I was quickly finding out that I wasn’t the best conversationalist, and it was completely fucking me over. Why the hell couldn’t I push everything aside and pretend I was on a real date?
Placing the last forkful of pasta into my mouth, I then leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. There was nothing that compared to the feeling pasta gave you. It almost always made me want to take a nap.
“You looked like you enjoyed that,” Willow commented, and when I opened my eyes, she was smiling at me. She was beautiful, there was no denying it. Her almond-shaped eyes were bright and wide, and her small straight nose led down to full lips painted red, but…she just wasn’t for me.
“I did,” I told her, smiling back. “How’s yours?”
“Delicious,” she said, and the way she said it made me wonder if she really meant it. She was staring at my empty bowl with envy. If Aria had been here, she’d have had the pasta without a second thought, and she wouldn’t have worried about the bloating sure to come afterward. Nope, she’d just eat what she wanted and not have a care in the world.
My stomach dipped, my palms starting to sweat. I shouldn’t be thinking about Aria while on a fake-date with Willow—I shouldn’t have been thinking about her period. But it was so goddamn hard to get her off my mind. An impossible task.
Willow finished off her salad while I nursed my beer, and when the waitress came back and asked if we’d like to see the dessert menu, Willow declined. I was glad she didn’t want dessert, but my stomach didn’t fully agree.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked, surprised at how short this date had been.
Her eyes hooded, and she tracked her gaze over my chest and then back to my face. “I’m ready.” Her voice was breathy, and I realized she thought we were going to be doing…something. She’d soon understand it would never happen, but for now, I paid the bill and walked us out of the restaurant.
The car ride back to her place was as quiet as it was on the way here, and when I pulled up into the same spot I had when I picked her up, I didn’t turn the engine off.
She turned in her seat and drifted closer to me, and I resisted the urge to back away. “I had fun tonight.”
“Me too.” I swallowed and hoped like hell she didn’t go in for a kiss. Instead of waiting to see if she did, I leaned forward and pressed one against her cheek.
“We should do this again,” she whispered, and I wasn’t sure if she was trying to sound sexy or shy, but neither one was working for her.
“Sure,” I replied, being noncommittal.
Her lips spread into the widest grin. “Next Saturday then?”
“Ahhh.” I gripped my steering wheel harder, trying to keep all my emotions at bay. “I have a family cookout next Saturday at my dad’s place.”
“Awesome!” She pushed the door open and got out. “I can’t wait to meet your family.” She slammed the door shut and left me staring after her, wondering what the hell had happened. Did she just invite herself to meet my family?
