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We spend the next two hours in companionable silence. I miss being able to sit side-by-side with someone without feeling the need to fill the air with sound. That level of comfort is a rare gift. To be honest, Eva and I didn’t have a lot of moments like that. My ex-wife was a talker and a planner. She liked to be in constant motion.
Paige appears to be the complete opposite. Not only does she eat like a racehorse in training—which was something Eva never did—but she also likes living in our small town. Eva was always looking for more. Paige seems perfectly content with what she already has.
As the movie progresses, I get more and more angry that we’re onMidwestern Matchmaker. Without this show, Paige would have never met Fielden, and I wouldn’t be pretending to be dating Cami.
Without reality programming, we have may have organically would up together.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
PAIGE
After Tim left last night, I replayed the evening in my head. Not only did the man bring me the most delicious supper, but he rubbed my feetandwatched a rom-com with me. The more I get to know him, the more I like him. And the more I like him, the more I wish he liked me in the same way.
But he made it clear he only wants to be my new Missy.
I take my lunch bag out from under my desk and pull out its contents. I’ve decided to eat in my classroom instead of going to the teacher’s lounge. Everyone is excited aboutMidwestern Matchmaker,and they ask endless questions about how it’s going. Who do you like? Who do you hate? Have you kissed anyone?
As I take the first bite of my tuna fish sandwich there’s a knock on my door. I look up and see Chip standing there. “Mind if I come in?” he asks.
“I guess not,” I say with a mouth full of food.
He walks in and sits at one of the students’ desks in the front row before opening the brown paper sack he’s carrying. He doesn’t say a word as he digs into his lunch.
Long moments later, I finally ask, “Did you want something?”
“Just a quiet place to eat. I have a study group using my room.”
I unsuccessfully try to stifle the giggle brewing inside me. “And you figured I’d never talk to you, so why not come here, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“Have I really been that awful?” I ask. The look on his face is all the answer I need. “I’m really sorry,” I tell him. “I was so nervous about this show when we met that I was acting like a real jerk.”
“Not to mention, I look like your old piano teacher,” he reminds me.
“He reallywasmean.”
After a few more bites of his burrito, Chip asks, “So, how’s the show going for you?”
“Great.” Talk about an exaggeration. In reality, it’s only slightly better than being waterboarded.
“And you like Fielden, huh?”
No, but I’m not going to tell Chip that. “I’m trying to stay open,” I tell him. “I’m sorry he made such a bad first impression on you. That wasn’t cool.”
Chip shrugs. “I’m used to guys like that thinking they’re better than everyone.” That statement hits me hard as I realize that Chip probably didn’t fare much better in high school than I did.
As such, there’s no use acting like I don’t know what he’s talking about. “Fielden really is your typical alpha male, isn’t he?” Male posturing has been a thing since the dawn of time.
Chip looks up from his sandwich with incredulity written across his face. “Is that your type?”
“It’s never been before,” I tell him. “The problem is that I haven’t done that well with men I thought were my type, so I’m trying something new. What about Brittany?” I ask. “Is she your normal type?”
A slow smile takes over his face. “Brittany is completely different. The women I’ve gone out with in the past have been kind ofpassive and shy.” Waving his hands in the air like an old Sicilian woman, he says, “Brittany’s loud and in your face. She knows who she is, and she really embraces it.”
“I like her a lot,” I tell him. “Truthfully, I don’t think you could find a better woman.”
He gives me the side eye. “Because I’m a dorky eighth-grade science teacher?”
