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Chapter Six
Nick
The Mexican restaurant is packed.
Rhenn and I arrive a few minutes before six, but are unable to find a parking spot within a one-block radius of the place, which results in us walking in a few minutes after our scheduled plan. I can already tell Rhenn is irritated (tardiness, and all), but it seems to fade away quickly when we spot two women in a booth toward the back.
Following behind my friend, we maneuver through the busy restaurant until we’re standing at the table. “Rhenny!” a bleached blonde woman (I’m assuming is Shelli) screeches as she stands up and throws her arms around my friend’s neck. Her very large, very fake breasts are pressed firmly against his chest, which is probably what has really put that smile on his face.
“Ahh, the lovely Shelli,” he says before kissing her neck and whispering something in her ear. When she giggles, I glance away, trying to not witness something that can’t be unseen.
“I’m Becca,” the woman opposite Shelli’s bench says, holding her hand out to me and fluttering her eyelashes.
“Nick,” I reply, her hand small and warm in my own.
“Nice to meet you, Nick. It looks like you’re with me,” she says sweetly as we glance over to see Shelli and Rhenn take their mini make-out session to the booth.
“Excellent.” I mean, what else am I supposed to say? This is awkward as fuck, and the reason I hate blind dates.
“Shelli and I were just about ready to order drinks,” Becca says, glancing down at her menu.
“Margaritas! Tequila makes my clothes fall off,” Shelli whispers as if she were sharing some state secret. The thing is, I could have already told her that. I mean, she on a date with my best friend, right? He prefers them easy and surgically enhanced.
“You don’t say,” I mumble, glancing at my own menu, even though I already know what I’m having. It’s the same thing I get every time I come here.
After we place our orders, Becca and I make a few awkward attempts at small talk, while Rhenn and Shelli eye-fuck each other over their margaritas. The entire evening just feels strained and uncomfortable. Maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I went into this with a closed mind, therefore I’m not giving this date a chance.
“Shelli is wrapping up grad school,” Rhenn says, giving me that ‘don’t start your shit’ look.
“Really? What for?” I dip a fresh, warm tortilla chip into the bowl of salsa in front of me.
“Hotel Management and Hospitality. I love everything about hotels,” she coos, her bright red lips parting widely.
“You don’t say,” I reply, fretting interest.
“And what about you, Becca? What are your post-college plans?” Rhenn asks the woman who’s apparently supposed to be my date for the evening.
“No grad school for me,” she says, dipping a chip in the salsa. “I graduated two years ago with a degree in retail merchandising.”
“Interesting. Isn’t that interesting, Nick?” Rhenn asks, shooting me another one of his looks. This one says ‘quit being a dick and acting bored.’ And maybe even ‘if you play your cards right, she’ll be riding your dick by seven.’ But honestly, that doesn’t really get me excited. Becca seems nice and well put together (nothing like Shelli who’s apparently two seconds away from offering a below the table BJ), but there just isn’t any spark. Any connection.
Well, unless you consider her lips connecting with her margarita glass as a connection. There’s plenty of that. In fact, she’s already on her second peach drink before we even have our dinners.
“Very interesting,” I say, just as I see movement across the room. When I glance that way, I find Meghan taking a seat across from some preppy-looking guy with gel in his hair. She’s wearing a pretty lavender dress with a white sweater over the top. Her hair is down in long, wavy curls, just begging for a set of fingers. Of course, it’d be a hell of a lot better fantasy if they were my fingers sliding into those luscious strands and grabbing hold.
Meghan offers the man across from her a smile, but it’s not one of her genuine ones. It’s guarded and timid, and frankly, isn’t real. Those smiles are rare, and reserved for special occasions.
What’s she doing? She didn’t mention having plans tonight, not that she needed to. But the way she’s dressed and the way he’s eyeing her like he wants to lick her from head to toe as if she were a fudge pop on a hot July day indicates this is more than just a chance meeting amongst friends. This teeters more into dating territory.
I watch a bit longer while she picks at the corners of her napkin, a nervous habit that she probably doesn’t even realize she has. When the guy across from her laughs and leans forward, his hand resting on her arm, I almost come out of my seat. Meghan tenses at the touch, her back going ramrod straight. She doesn’t appear scared, just uncomfortable. Nervous.
She slowly pulls her arm back without drawing attention to the fact she was removing it from his touch. She smiles tightly at him, nodding her head after whatever question he asked, and glances down at her menu.
“Earth to Nick,” Rhenn says, drawing my attention back to my own table.
“What? I’m sorry,” I reply, shaking thoughts of Meghan from my head.
Only it doesn’t work.
