Page 44 of Lucky
For the next hour, we finish preparing the meal—I’m in charge of stirring the RAGÚ—and we eat at her small kitchen table next to a window that overlooks the backyard.The conversation flows easily and I even brave petting Buttermilk who doesn’t seem to like me but isn’t chewing off my leg.
We delve deeper into topics we already discussed, mostly family.She tells me more about her siblings and their close relationship, but that her niece Sadie is the most important thing in her life.I didn’t ask, but I have no doubt she wants kids.
In turn, I share more about my deadbeat dad, how he left my mom when Daniela was seven and I was only three.That my mom raised us both by working two jobs and she is who I am closest to.I don’t share with her that I want lots of kids.
After, I insist on cleaning up the kitchen, which leads to our first argument.She insists it’s her job as the hostess and my counterargument is the universal rule that she who cooks does not clean.
“It was freaking RAGÚ,” she huffs.
“You’re even prettier when you’re mad,” I observe.“Just drink your beer and keep looking pretty.”
Winnie relents and leans against the counter while I make quick work of the dishes.It’s not that hard, because… bottled sauce.
“I saw your TikTok about your date with Chad.”
“His name was Nate.”
“Whatever.Mr.Multiplication Tables probably gives out gold stars for good eye contact during a date.”
Her lips press together, holding back a smile.“It was just for hummus.”
“That right there tells you all you need to know about the man,” I say with a pointed look.“But you said he was nice.Funny.That you liked how normal he felt.”
She watches me closely.“You jealous?”
“Yeah.”
The word hangs there.Blunt and honest.
Her eyes widen slightly, then soften.“You said you were okay with this being an experiment.”
“I was,” I say, stepping closer.“But now?I think it’s bullshit.”
She arches a brow.“Excuse me?”
“I think it’s bullshit because you already found someone worth dating.Me.”
She doesn’t reply right away, and I know she’s processing.I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I told you I made a list,” I say instead.“Of all the normal things I want to do with you.Sunday dinner with your family.Grocery runs.Folding laundry with bad TV in the background.Bringing you tea while you grade papers.Kissing you good-night like it matters.And that list keeps getting longer, which means I need more dates.”
She blinks, startled.
“So I’m going to fight for them.”
I open TikTok, hit record on a live stream.
“Hey, everyone, Lucky Branson here,” I say casually.“So, here’s the deal.Winnie—also known as the dangerously cute teacher I’m into—started this dating experiment to find one decent guy.I’d like to propose a counterchallenge.Four exclusive dates.Just me.Just her.No other guys.If she’s not convinced after that, I’ll bow out gracefully.But if she is?”
I glance at her.
“She deletes the experiment and gives real dating with me a shot.Hit me up in the comments and let me know what you think.”
I end the video, not even bothering to look at the comments that I know are already pouring in.I slide the phone into my back pocket.
Winnie blinks.“You just ambushed me on TikTok.Again.”
