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I avoid sighing by stuffing a piece of the steak in my mouth to keep me quiet. The self-convincing starts easily- she might show me some neat places around town that I wouldn’t have found on my own. “Have you lived here your whole life?”
“I have. My family has lived in Albuquerque for a long time.”
“You probably know all the best spots to hang out then.” That’ll make it worth continuing our date after dinner. She might introduce me to my new favorite place.
She nods with a happy grin, finally showing some confidence on her face. “I do. What kinds of things are you into? There are clubs, bowling alleys-”
“Bowling?” I haven’t been to a bowling alley since I was a young teenager. I thought bowling was dead. Do adults bowl?
“Ax throwing is probably more your thing. Then you can show off your big muscles for me.” She flexes her arm to show me the muscles she has.
Did she just hit on me? The longer we sit and talk the more interested I feel myself becoming. This is the longest conversation I’ve held in a while and I haven’t gotten up and left yet. That’s saying something. She’s cute, as well. I wasn’t paying enough attention to her body when she walked in, but from what I can see above the level of the table, she’s definitely my type.
I haven’t been considering this an actual date in my head, just an uncomfortable circumstance due to my asshole coworkers, but suddenly, maybe it is a date. I don’t want to go ax throwing or bowling or clubbing. I’ve been out around other humans for too long.
But I can’t exactly ask her home with me either. There are rules to this dating thing. There’s an etiquette you’re supposed to follow, and I’m not well versed in this. Jesus Christ, this is too difficult. That’s why I don’t date.
“Don’t think about it too hard, Jake,” Brittany says with an easy smile. “You can ditch me after dinner if you want, and I promise it won’t break my heart.”
She just nicknamed me. “Eat your lettuce, Bubbles. We’ll figure out what to do after your belly’s full.”
Brittany’s eyes turn heated as she looks at me, but she’s not angry. Somehow what I just said turned her on, and the look in her eyes makes the feeling mutual. She stabs her fork into her salad and takes a bite, eyes on me the entire time.
My heart races a little faster in my chest, and I’ve got to wonder if maybe this is going better than I thought it was as my eyes lock onto her plump lips that I want to feel against mine. Maybe I haven’t ruined this night entirely.
Chapter Four
Brittany
Jake offers to drive us to the bowling alley after paying for our dinner and drinks. He doesn’t touch me at all as he leads me outside to his jacked-up truck. “Are you comfortable riding with me?”
My eyes narrow. That’s a suspiciously aware thing for a man to say. I appreciate the sentiment, but it seems strange for him to know that’s a concern I have. Men don’t typically understand what women are afraid of. “I…” My brows crease together and my eyes run up and down the length of him as I try to come up with an appropriate response. “That’s… very considerate?”
“I grew up with sisters,” he says as an explanation. “Don’t take that as a red flag. I’m trying to be less of an asshole on this date. I started at a disadvantage. I’m trying to regain the ground I lost.”
The big, grumpy man likes me? Enough to make that kind of an effort? He wants a fair chance. Is it just to get in my pants or does he actually have an interest in me? Oh, hell, I guess I don’t really care. “I’m comfortable riding with you. If you’ll just… blow into this… thing for me.”
I have to rummage around to find the breathalyzer in my purse and offer it to him, hating the anxiety that settles in my chest. I don’t want this to be the thing that ruins this date for us. He’s finally figured out how to be less of a jerk, and I need him to stay that way. I might punch him in the throat if he teases me for carrying this thing around.
Other people consider this stupid, but I’m not ashamed to be safe. My dad gave it to me when I turned fifteen. He made me promise to never get into a car with a driver who blew over a .03, and to never get in the car with someone who refused to blow into it to show me they were safe after drinking. Even at .03, driving is impaired and could be more dangerous, but he said he felt like it was a fair compromise.
