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Chapter 4
DARA
As eager as I’ve been to meet with the hot professor again, he sounds even more eager than I am. Which is saying something.
I’m starting to realize that his general hotness—and his obvious brains—are contrasted by his social skills. Not that he’s mean, or obviously narcissistic or anything like that, but he’s damn awkward.
Like a puppy.
I’m also starting to realize that I find his social awkwardness pretty endearing.
He doesn’t hide what he feels. That’s rare. As involved in such an image-conscious field as TV news as I am, it’s really refreshing. And kinda sexy.
I looked him up on the professional social-media thing earlier, and was not all that surprised to find that he’s well-regarded and considered quite the draw to our local university. He’s published loads of very esoteric papers that I can barely read, must less understand, but at least two of them are labeled definitive for whatever thing he’s studying.
I’m impressed.
I’m still excited when we meet at the best Thai place in town. Thai This is located in a little strip mall, and it’s very casual. I’m glad he got the memo, because in a casual button-down and worn jeans, he’s incredibly attractive. Those gray eyes are sharp, but they soften when he looks at me.
Over pho and banh mi, we talk. About our families: we’re both only children. I grew up in Rivertown with just my mother, and he’s from Cincinnati, where he lived with both parents.
He asks about my journalism background, and whether I like working in TV news, and actually listens to the answer without making judgmental statements.
He asks whether I have pets (no, I’m allergic) and then confesses to
He asks my favorite color (royal blue) and favorite dessert (brownies, duh) and the best vacation I’ve ever been on (tossup between Disney World when I was twelve, and Prague with a college group), and I smile to recognize some of the questions from the Matchmakers Inc suggestion sheet.
“I know,” he says apologetically, before I can even mention it. “It’s cheesy. But I thought some of those questions were actually things that I’d like to know about you.”
The questions morph into back-and-forth, and it becomes clear that he’s not only intelligent and thoughtful, he’s really only awkward with people he doesn’t know. “Super introvert,” he warns me, pointing to himself. “Extrovert,” he adds, pointing to me. “We’d have to be mindful of that.”
He seems to take it for granted that this date won’t be the last. But he’s right. I do want to see him again.
“I’m not a super extrovert,” I explain. “I like talking to people, and the camera doesn’t scare me. But I need to recharge by being alone, or just with family. So I’m really more of an extroverted introvert.”
He grins, and he’s just so damn cute. “So you won’t drag me out to the clubs night after night?”
I recoil in horror. “Hell, no! I don’t go to clubs, either. Not my thing.”
“Good.” He leans closer, and I get a good whiff of pine soap and clean man skin. Mmmm. “I was surprised we matched. I mean, I knew you were it for me, but I did not expect you to call.”
“Why on earth not?”
He looks confused. “Because I’m me, I guess? I’m not good with the flirting thing. Honestly, the last time I asked a woman out was in college.”
I’m stunned. “But you’re drop-dead gorgeous.”
Hugo flushes bright red. “I—um. I had a bad decade between the ages of 14 and 24. Too tall and skinny. Weird-looking. Bad skin. Glasses. I got made fun of a lot.”
“Teenagers can be so stupid,” I say, with sympathy. “I suffered through high school, too.”
“And I got so tired of getting shot down or friend-zoned that by the time I stopped looking like a stork, I was too scared to ask anybody else.” He looks down at the table, then back up at me. “Is it weird that I can’t do small talk? Is it weird that I just feel like you’re the only girl in the world?”
He’s been honest. I’ll be honest back.
“It’s maybe a little weird,” I say gently. “But it doesn’t put me off. I like it that you go straight to how you feel.” He smiles, and then I actually hear the last part of what he said. “The only girl?”
“Yeah.” His smile turns rueful. “I know. I’m not cool.”
