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“No.”
“So give me a good reason why you won’t.”
“Why do I need a good reason? It’s my rule. I shouldn’t need to explain it to you.” She felt like she was arguing with a kid. When Olivia had been three or four, she’d gone deep into the why phase, and Alex was reminding her how frustrating that had gotten. Especially because she couldn’t tell him her real reasons.
“Want to know what I think?” he asked.
“Not particularly.”
“Too bad.” He picked up his whiskey, downed the shot in one swig and tilted the empty glass towards her. “I think you like me.”
“I bet you think a lot of people like you,” she countered.
“A lot of people do like me. I’m a popular guy. But that’s not the point. I think you, Alice Darli
ng, in particular, like me. Like me like me.”
“I’m sorry, are we in the ninth grade? Did you just say like me like me.”
“I did.” Totally shameless.
Who was this guy? They’d barely spoken to each other beyond the awkward dinner at her place, yet he’d punched a guy in the face for her and was now trying to convince her she ought to, what? Sleep with him? Date him?
Alex Ross was unlike any man she’d ever known, and more than anything, she feared he would turn out to be exactly like every man she’d let her guard down for in the past. History was doomed to repeat itself, wasn’t that how the saying went? Once upon a time she’d trusted a baseball player with her heart, and to say things had gone poorly was the understatement of a lifetime.
Why did she want so badly to believe Alex might be different?
Why was she even willing to consider giving him a chance?
He smiled at her, his boyishly round cheeks blushing red from the alcohol.
“So what if I do like you?” she said after a lengthy pause.
“Hear me out.”
“Fine.” She leaned back in her chair, thinking this ought to be good. Her brain was feeling a bit like a shaken can of pop, all fizz and no real substance. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to tell a compelling argument from a steaming heap of bullshit.
“You don’t date baseball players.”
“I know.”
“So let’s pretend I’m not one.”
Hadn’t they gone through this already? He must have seen the apprehension on her face because he held up one finger to silence any arguments she might try to make.
He continued. “I’m Alex Ross. I’m a…carpenter.”
When he held out his hand, she stared at it blankly, then after some consideration finally accepted the handshake. “Alice Darling.”
“What do you do, Alice?”
“I’m a waitress.” That was an easy one. Not even a lie. She still wasn’t sure where he was going with this. Pretending he didn’t play baseball didn’t change anything, did it?
Did it?
“Do you live around here?”
“Is that a broader version of do you come here often?”
