Page 37 of Loving Carter

For the rest of the drive, we talk about movies (he loves them) and books (he loves them too). We compare thoughts on some of my favorite books, and he’s read most of them. His list of favorite books overlaps with some of mine, which is fun. He also has a few he loves that I type in my phone so I’ll be sure to check them out later. The more we talk, the more I realize he really is perfect for me. Carter wasn’t wrong about that. Gabe and I share many of the same interests. On paper, we look perfect.

The only problem is that there’s no zing between us. I should be attracted to him, but I’m not, well, beyond being a friend. I’m positive he’ll make an excellent friend.

When we reach the venue, he parks near the front. It’s a restaurant and bar in a large barn. The place is huge.

“I’m not sure we can afford them if they play here,” I say to Gabe.

“Don’t let the outside fool you. Most nights, the bands are small local groups like Fine Texas Evening. This place is a restaurant with barbeque tables, plus a huge bar. The bar and dance floor take up about half of the room. It’s very casual.”

That’s good since I wore my favorite outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. Next to Gabe, I look underdressed, but based on what people I see outside have on, I’ll fit right in. The inside is fairly dark and huge. Gabe’s description was accurate. One side is the restaurant and then over on the other side are the band and dance floor.

Gabe checks his phone, then says, “Carter isn’t here yet, so let’s grab a table in the restaurant area.”

The band hasn’t started, and many of the tables in the restaurant are full. After a search, we find one that is empty and snag it. A server shows up almost immediately and takes our order. For a huge place, they seem very efficient.

“So how are things between you and Carter?” Gabe asks. “Is it still awkward?”

I tell him the good news. “No. Carter’s no longer attracted to me. He figures it was just something he felt because he was tired.”

Gabe says nothing and simply looks at me. I know what I just told him sounds stupid, but it’s what Carter said, and hey, I want to believe it’s true.

Fortunately, I’m spared from debating it with Gabe because Carter and Rachel walk up. After introducing Gabe and Rachel, Gabe shifts over to sit next to me, and the other couple sits across from us.

It seems nice. We order drinks and dinner and make all sorts of small talk. Well, mostly Rachel and Gabe make small talk. Carter and I are almost silent. I keep trying to think of something to say, but nothing occurs to me. Moreover, I try to keep my focus on Gabe, but I keep glancing at Carter. He looks as jumpy as I feel. When will that band start playing?

By the time the first notes sound, I feel like I’m going to jump right out of my skin. I know Carter told me that everything is okay, but tonight, it sure doesn’t feel that way. It feels super awkward.

The band launches into a loud song that gets the crowd hopping. The second Gabe asks me if I want to dance, I jump to my feet. Anything to escape the table.

Gabe is a great dancer, and we stay for a second song. By then Carter and Rachel are also dancing. I’ve danced with Carter several times over the years. He’s very good too. He and Rachel seem to be having fun.

A slow ballad comes on, and Gabe takes me in his arms. I haven’t slow danced with a man in a couple of years, and I’ve missed it.

“They look like they’re getting along,” Gabe says, nodding toward Carter and Rachel.

I look over at the other couple. They look like they are really hitting it off. “Yes. They do.”

I nibble on my bottom lip. It’s good they’re getting along, right? I want Carter and Rachel to get along great. She knows he won’t stay, but she’s okay with it. She’s having fun with him while he’s here. That makes sense.

“You’re so tense. Is everything okay?” Gabe asks.

Tense? That’s a nice way of putting it. I know I’m as stiff as a board, and I’m ruining this dance. “I’m fine.”

But I’m not. Not at all. Seeing Carter holding Rachel, talking to her, laughing with her, is getting to me.

It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care. I started this, and I’ve never cared before.

But it’s driving me crazy.

“Can we sit down for a little while?” I ask.

“Sure.” Gabe and I head back to the table, and he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I tell him. “It’s just this entire night has me jumpy. I can’t seem to concentrate on the band, and I know that’s the whole reason we came here.”

“Do you want to leave?” Gabe is such a nice guy, and I feel bad about getting him caught up in this mess.

“From what I’ve heard, I like the band,” I say.

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