Page 12 of The Love Playbook

Oh yeah. This is going to be fun.

* * *

My good mood sours when I leave my room, though. Ellie’s sitting on the couch like a sentry, just waiting for me to try to slip past.

She looks up from the book in her lap, snapping the lid onto her highlighter and dropping it in the crease to mark her place. Giving me a once over, she raises an eyebrow. “Hot date tonight?”

“Yes.” Simple answer for a simple question. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

“With who?”

Looping my purse over my shoulder and sliding on my wedge sandals, I debate how much to tell her. I opt for a nonchalant shrug as I focus on adjusting the straps far more than necessary, but it’s a good excuse not to meet her eyes. “Just a guy I’m seeing.”

“Since when do you see guys?” Her tone is accusatory, verging on disgust.

I circle my finger in the air, indicating her and her entire vibe. “This? This right here is why I don’t want to talk to you about this.”

Her mouth drops open in shock. “Since when don’t you want to tell meeverythingabout any and every guy you’ve been with? Hmm?”

“Since you decided to judge my every action.” I hold my hands out to the sides, palms up. “What? Now that I’m not just doing party hookups, you think I don’t deserve a nice guy? Is that it? I’ve been slutting it up too much for a nice guy to be interested in me?”

This time her gasp is all hurt, her face crumpling. “Autumn, no! That’s not—” She shakes her head and stands, setting her book on the couch and facing me. Reaching out, she grips my hands. “I love you. I care about you. I also worry about you.”

“Then why don’t you want me to have someone nice?” Honestly, it hurts. The way all of them have been acting since I spent the evening with Jackson at the last game night. When I said I was meeting him for coffee yesterday, you’d think I’d said I was taking him to a public orgy.

“Idowant you to have someone nice. But”—her eyes examine my face—“I thought you’ve been seeing Jackson, and now you’re going out with someone else? I don’t get it.”

Sighing, I let my shoulders fall. “Jacksonisthe guy I’ve been seeing. But every time I mention him, you guys all lose your shit like I’m some kind of bad influence on him.”

She bites her lip.

Pursing my lips, I give her thespit it outlook. “Just say it, Ellie.”

Releasing my hands, she spreads hers. “I mean … aren’t you, though? Jackson’s this kind, shy guy. You really think he can handle you? That he’d be enough for you?”

I arch an eyebrow and plant a hand on my hip. “Maybe he’s the one looking for my kind of influence. You ever consider that?”

And on that parting shot, I leave, because if this continues, I’ll be late. We’re meeting at the restaurant so he can get used to what a first date with someone he doesn’t know as well might be like. It does mean he won’t be able to walk me to my door, but with Ellie the virtue guard on duty, it’s probably for the best.

If I weren’t so annoyed with her, I’d find it hilarious that she’s trying so hard to protect Jackson. As though he’s incapable of protecting himself. I’m not really sure why she feels the need, anyway. It’s not like they’re close. Sure, we’ve all been over to his and Eli’s place plenty of times for game nights, and Jackson came to our dorm room a few times last year when we were working on that scene together, but I know him far better than Ellie does.

Once in my car, I take a few deep breaths to recenter myself and release the stress of that conversation. I don’t need that kind of negative energy dogging me on my first actual date with Jackson. For one thing, that would ruin any date. But more importantly, I’m on this date to help Jackson. As his love tutor. A duty I take very seriously. So I need to be at my best so I can help him be at his best.

With a smile in place, anticipation once again bubbling through my blood, I head for the restaurant.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jackson

The gnawing pit in my belly isn’t all hunger as I wait by the hostess stand for Autumn to arrive. It’s ridiculous to be this nervous. It’s not like I have to worry about impressing her, really. In fact, the opposite is true. If I do something awkward, she’ll kindly and gently enlighten me on what that is and what I should do instead. And give me the opportunity to practice. That’s the whole point of this, right?

Knowing that doesn’t make any difference to the part of me that wants to do this right. I want to impress Autumn. I want her to like me, and not just see me as a project. As someone who needs help. Yes, yes, I do need help. And I appreciate that she wants to help me. But … my pride makes it so that I dislike the imbalance of her helping me and me not bringing anything to the table.

The door opens, and she breezes in on a ray of sunshine, a bright smile on her face. She immediately approaches me and presses up to give me a kiss on the cheek, her hand resting on my chest.

When she goes back down, she rubs her hand over the fabric of my button down shirt, looking me over. “Very nice.” Stepping back, she circles her finger. “Let me get the full package.”

Blushing, because of fucking course I’m blushing, I spread my arms and make a slow circle. I’m wearing a green shirt that I’ve been told brings out my eyes, the sleeves cuffed at the elbows, tucked into my gray suit pants.

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