Page 7 of Blind Date with a #FORMERPLAYER
“It’s great meeting you.”
“You look nice,” he mumbles, suddenly diverting his gaze, glancing around the room instead of at me.
“Ah, thanks,” I respond as more of a question. That word tends to rub me the wrong way, but I try not to let it bother me. He doesn’t know that. I watch him look around, taking in our small red, white, and black retro diner as if he has something else on his mind besides this date. I can’t blame him, since I didn’t want to be set up either, but we’re here. Why not enjoy it?
Swinging his attention back to me, he asks, “So, what’s good here? You are from Love Canyon, right?”
“Yes, I grew up here. Honestly everything is good. It’s basically all homemade, so it only depends on what you like.”
“Then, I guess that makes sense why they picked the diner for our date. Variety and homemadecooking.”
Huffing a laugh, I claim, “Or it’s because they wanted to witness every part of it. I feel eyes on us from every direction.”
His gaze widens and he scans the room again, a smile curving his lips. “You’re right. I hadn’t noticed.”
“How can you not?” I question, squirming.
He shrugs. “Guess I’m used to it.”
“I didn’t think that was something anyone would get used to. There’s no way I could.”
Leaning back, he crosses his arms defensively over his chest, staring at me through narrowed eyes. “Then, what are you doing here with me?”
I scoff. “You really think highly of yourself, huh?”
“No, it’s just the way it is.”
Is he serious? The audacity!
“Just because you’re good looking doesn’t mean you have people fawning all over you.”
“You think I’m good looking?” He gives me another crooked grin making me want to slap it from his face. Holding his hands up as if trying to calm a rabid beast, he claims, “I’m teasing and besides, that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“What are you talking about then?” I clasp my hands tightly together, forcing myself to stay glued to the chair. At least he’sniceto look at. I hate that damn word. Everyone always assumes I’m the smart girl, or the nice one. Apparently, I’m destined to never be pretty or fun. Internally groaning, I try to stop obsessing about a word and pay attention to my date.
A teen waitress approaches us, her red hair pulled up into a high ponytail. “Are you ready to order?” she asks, pouring water into the glasses placed in front of each of us.
“May we have a couple more minutes?” Levi asks.
“Sure.” She nods, turning and walking to another table.
“Look, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. Maybe we can start over?” His voice comes out low and soft, apologetic.
“Okay,” I mutter halfheartedly, wondering if he means it.
“How’d you end up on a blind date with me?” he questions, leaning towards me as if he’s truly curious about my response.
“Honestly, I think I was manipulated into it by my book club.”
He laughs, bringing a genuine smile to my face. “I have to say, I’m very curious about this book club.”
“It’s definitely one of a kind. Why are you here?”
“The truth? I’m doing my aunt a favor.”
I flinch. “Oh, how charitable of you,” I mutter, sarcasm thick on my tongue.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here.”
