Page 21 of The Dating Game

“Brooke, hey.” Will grins at me, stepping forward into the bar. Now that he’s moved away from the hostess stand I can see that he’s taken off his dress clothes and is now wearing the shortest running shorts known to man. For a few seconds I can’t look away from his legs. It’s like a train wreck. You know you shouldn’t be staring, but whoop there they are. Legs!

Why! I want to cry!Why are you wearing those?And horribly I can feel laughter bubbling up in my chest. They’re just so short. And he’s got such hairy, long, muscular legs. They look completely wrong paired with the feminine cut of the shorts.

And his shirt. It’s neon. Neon! I’m sorry, but the eighties called and they want their color palette back.

I have to look away from the legs. I’ve been staring for way too long.

“You like my shorts?” Will asks because clearly I took too long to look away. I’m really not embarrassed, though. I’m not the one wearing those shorts.

“Um, sure,” I say in a high-pitched, Father-God-please-control-my-laughter type of voice.

“I rode my bike here,” he says, crossing his neon sleeves across his chest. “Good for the environment, you know? But it gets hot, so I wear these puppies for maximum exposure.”

Maximum exposure indeed. I purse my lips.

Also, it’s February. Literally the coldest month in Arizona. And sure, some northerners may argue that temperatures in the sixties are pretty warm, but those of us born and raised in Arizona know better.

“That’s nice,” I eke out. “And um, why are you here?”

“Oh. I left my school staff card here last night. Thought I would zoom on over and grab it. That’s what I do.” He snaps his fingers. “Zoom on my bike. You ride?”

Okay, he’s being really weird. I look to Meredith for confirmation of this, but she’s staring at Will with a slightly agog expression. I get it. Even in his weird shorts and neon shirt, Will is still insanely attractive. I also feel a burst of annoyance at her display of interest. I’m supposed to be the one dating him.

Because Sydney said so,notbecause I’m actually interested.

“I do know how to ride abike,” I confirm.

“That’s cool, man. Cooool.” He bobs his head up and down, reminding me forcibly of Joey when he’s trying to be 19 onFriends.He’ll start saying wack next.

Or wassup.

“We should go for a ride sometime,” he suggests. I blink at him.

“As friends or are you asking me out?” I ask, because it could be either one, and I need the two month timeline to start sooner rather than later.

“You tell me,” he says, and despite his ridiculous shorts and neon choices, the flirtatious tilt of his mouth makes my stomach curl with heat.

“It’s a date,” I hear myself answer breathlessly, then, before I can get hold of myself, I add, “I have enough friends.”

Will chuckles, the deep sound rumbling through my body.

“Noted. So, you free tomorrow? Maybe we could go for a bike ride in the morning.”

“Tomorrow I teach dance from 9-3,” I tell him, still slightly stunned that our first date is going to be a bike ride. What if he wears those shorts again? Maybe I should propose a dress code. I could go with the classic rule: your shorts must be longer than the spot your fingertips hit when your arms are at your sides.

A rule that’s not just for girls apparently.

“Okay, and I’ve got rehearsals for Sunday morning from 1:30-3:30, so how about after that? I could pick you up around 4:30? I’ll bring my bike of course.” He wags his eyebrows and pantomimes pedaling. A motion that makes his shorts ride up even further. My eyes widen, and I quickly avert my gaze. Is this how men feel all the time? Like they’re not sure where to look without appearing to be leering?

I don’t know. But I definitely just saw some lower buttcheek.

“4:30 works,” I trill, then hold out my phone. “Here, give me your number, and I’ll send you my address.”

We exchange phone numbers, then Will exits the front door, humming a vaguely familiar tune as he goes. The song title hits me as I get in my car a few minutes later. He was humming “A Bicycle Built for Two.”

Oh my. What are the chances he’s going to show up at my door with a tandem bicycle?

Chapter 8

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