Page 17 of Dating the DILF
“I can’t even imagine.” And I couldn’t. Kids were unapologetically not in my life plan.
“I feel like things have taken a turn into the too-serious-for-a-first-date zone, Chicago. Especially one in a shop with an ice cream wearing a top hat painted on the window.” He nods toward the illustration painted on the large shop front window. “How about if, just for the afternoon, we pretend that our lives are completely uncomplicated, and we spend the next few hours enjoying each other?”
“And when the afternoon is over?” I can’t stop the question from forming on my lips.
“We decide if what this is, is worth facing reality for.” He shrugs and looks at me with an expression so full of hope that all I want to do is agree. Because, despite the complexity of our situations, I am so not ready to walk away from this.
“Okay, explain the rationale behind the ice cream thing, and I want a proper answer this time, my decision might depend on it.”
Two hours later, I’m laughing helplessly as Miles defends his—some might say unhealthy—obsession with Sandra Bullock.
“Okay, you need to calm down.” He glares at me across the table. “It’s not anobsession, and it’s the movies I love. Nother.”
“You just told me you had her posters all over your wall!” I argue, trying desperately to keep a straight face.
“When I was ateenager. And you swore you would never repeat that.” A scowl settles on his face.
I push away the chocolate shake in front of me and hold my arms up. “Sorry, I’m sorry! But in my defense, you really shouldn’t tell anyone that.” I level him with a fierce glare. “Ever.”
“Hmph, I’m secure enough in my masculinity to own it. Come at me, Chicago, I can take anything you throw at me.” He winks at me and takes a huge gulp of his own milkshake.Strawberry. I’m seriously questioning our compatibility right now.
Taking a look around the still busy shop, I glance at a pair of women sitting by the front window. Both beautiful, they are the type of women who intimidate the hell out of me. Long-limbed, perfectly made-up faces, and that air of confidence that comes with knowing wherever you go, you are wanted and welcomed.
They have also been throwing subtle glances our way since they sat down and it’s starting to set my nerves on edge.
“What about you?” Miles’ deep voice interrupts my thoughts. “You must have some embarrassing stories. It’s only fair,” he goads.
“Oh God, not really.” I consider his question. Of course, I have plenty of mortifying teenage stories I could tell him. Doesn’t mean I’m going to. I might not do this whole dating thing often, but I’m not stupid.
“Okay, I will admit to being a bit pop-music obsessed,” I admit. “In high school, my best friend and I used to spend hours trying to recreate the Backstreet Boys’ dance routines. I still say they are musical geniuses and never got the credit they deserve.” He opens his mouth to interrupt, but I quickly cut him off. “Disagreeing with me really doesn’t bode well for you here, so think carefully before you speak.”
Miles leans back in his seat and folds his arms across his chest. His extremely broad chest.Le sigh.
“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“Good answer, sir. Good answer.” I raise my glass to him.
“So, that’s it?” He shakes his head sadly. “My stories were much more embarrassing than that. I’m kind of disappointed in you.”
I throw a wadded-up napkin at him, but he ducks and I miss, the napkin instead landing by the feet of the girls at the table who have been ogling Miles.
My eyes narrow when I see them still watching, having now lost all pretense of subterfuge.
“What just happened here?”
“Huh?” I drag my attention from blonde one and blonde two, back to him.
“Your face just went all…” He scrunches his nose up, as though he smelled something revolting.
“No, it didn’t,” I counter with the confidence of a lawyer who is used to faking it when needed.
“Saying it didn’t doesn’t make it true, you know. But since it’s only our first date, I’ll let it slide. Now tell me what caused that expression of pure delight.”
“Ugh,” I sigh. “Okay, there’s something you should know about me.”
“Okay.” Miles leans forward, a look of wariness sliding across his features.
“I don’t really people very well.” My shoulders sag, such is my relief at getting this off my chest.
