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He twirls his glass on the table. “I think this is my best first date ever.”
Your last first date.
“What’s so good about it?” I smile as I play along.
“Well . . . the scenery.” He gestures to me.
I giggle and lick the salt from my glass.
“That.” He points to me with my tongue hanging out. “That is a definite high point. Every time you do it, I feel it in my loins.”
I burst out laughing, and he does too.
“Loin or groin?” I ask.
“Both.”
We laugh again. I’m sure the waitstaff all hate us by now—nothing is this funny.
“I love that you’re understated,” he says.
I flick my hair around and bat my eyelashes.
“Your wanting-to-renovate-a-house thing is a little concerning, though. Don’t know if I would trust you with a nail gun.”
I giggle. He is so fun.
“I love that you’re a nurse.”
“Have you lost somebody?” I ask.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well.” I shrug. “Most people who appreciate nurses have spent a lot of time in a hospital.”
“My mother.”
We fall serious.
“I’m sorry. Recently?”
“No.” He sips his drink. “When I was fifteen.”
I watch him, unsure what to say next.
He looks out over the restaurant as if miles away. “It was a catastrophic event in my life.”
Oh . . .
I hold my hand out over the table to him, and he places his in mine. I rub my thumb over his fingers. “She would be very proud of you.”
His eyes meet mine, and he rolls his lips as if annoyed. I instantly know that I’ve overstepped.
“But she said you better up your game because this date is definitely slipping down to a two.”
He smirks and picks up his drink. “Really?”
“Yes.” I nod, acting serious. “She said you should walk me out to my car and kiss me good night if you want to raise the score tally.”
