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Jillian yawned. “You were never a scout so that isn’t exactly comforting.”
He turned his head to face her and stared at her just slightly longer than normal. Had her nose always turned up slightly at the tip and looked that cute? He blinked a few times. What the hell was that kind of thought? This was Jillian. “When do you want to commence with the torture…I mean plan this double date?”
“Maybe in a few weeks? I have a heavy course load right now and need to get a little more grounded in it before I get all distracted by Spencer in a sweater vest.”
Dean groaned at her giggle and laced his fingers behind his head, letting the heat from the sun and the exhaustion from a day swimming in the lake pull him into a light sleep.
***
Jillian
Ten Years Ago
Dean pulled off the end of the covering of his straw and blew into the tube, shooting the paper at Jillian across the table. She balled up the wrapper and tossed it back at him with a smirk.
Spencer huffed in the booth beside her and warmth crept up the back of her neck when she realized she’d very nearly forgotten her very new boyfriend was sitting beside her.
She turned slightly in her seat and focused on Spencer. “What did you think of the movie?”
Small crinkles formed around his chocolate eyes as he slid his arm along the back of the bench seat and his thumb stroked her shoulder. “It was a bit predictable and the humor was…rather immature.”
Dean snorted across the table and tossed an entire jalapeno popper in his mouth. “Immature? You’re almost seventeen, not forty. I think you just need to lighten up, my man.”
Erica slid her hand inside the crook of Dean’s left arm and scooted closer to him. “I thought it was funny. Although some of the fight scenes were just…” She shivered dramatically and Jillian fought the urge to roll her eyes.
Jillian shrugged in response. “They were okay. Not nearly as good as our favorite series, right, Sparky?”
He took a long drink from his soda then nodded vigorously. “I mean, I guess they did the best they could with no superheroes or otherworldly powers available to them.”
The two easily fell into their normal post-movie discussion from the plot to the acting to hypothesizing whether or not a sequel would happen and, if so, what it could entail. The waitress came and dropped off their food and they only stopped talking to inhale large bites of their food.
On one of the few breaks, Erica folded her arms across her chest. “Dean, I’d like to speak with you outside, please.”
Dean slid out of the booth and stood to the side, offering a hand to Erica as she moved across the seat and got to her feet beside him. He fell in step behind her, casting a glance over his shoulder to where Jillian and Spencer still sat, lifting his shoulders slightly.
Spencer let out a low whistle. “Can’t say I blame her.”
She speared her fork through lettuce, tomato, and cucumber, stuffing the mass of vegetables in her mouth. The familiar rebellious thrill shot through her knowing her mother would have a fit seeing her well-trained daughter eating a decidedlynotpetite bite of food. “What are you talking about?”
He lifted both brows, cutting through his chicken with a delicate finesse Jillian was certain her mother would have swooned over. “You two. You’re behaving as though you and Dean are on a date and we are just accessories.”
The half of the salad already in her stomach turned and the accuracy of his words burned her cheeks. They hadn’t meant it, hadn’t wanted to hurt Spencer or Erica, but she and Dean had been friends for nearly a decade. Turning off everything that was ingrained by this stage was practically impossible.
Spencer pulled the napkin from his lap, blotted invisible food residue from his lips, and folded the napkin on his empty plate, fork and knife lying side by side on top to signal he was finished just as they’d both been trained in cotillion class. An unnecessary gesture considering the casual atmosphere of the steak house, but one she knew he couldn’t turn off if he tried.
“Listen, Jillian, I like you, but not enough to fight some dude.”
Jillian choked on her mouthful of water and coughed as she set the glass down. “What the hell makes you think you have to fight Dean? That’s absolutely insane.”
Before he could answer, she caught Dean across the room, face flushed and mouth drawn into a tight line.
Spencer sighed and stood. “That’s exactly what I mean. I’m sure yourfriendwill take you home. Goodnight, Jillian.”
Dean stared quizzically at her as Spencer pushed past him to leave the restaurant. How in the world had this night gone this wrong?
Chapter Nineteen
Dean
