Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
It’s surprisingly easy to do because Nick gets out of the car—not opening my door again—and walks into the restaurant while I follow along a couple of steps behind. He’s friendly with the hostess, who he seems to know and who shoots daggers at me like I’m stealing her man, when as far as I’m concerned, she can have him. Please, take him.
The waitress is older and doesn’t greet us, just stands at the end of the table while Nick orders for both of us. I raise my brows, but at this point, I don’t care. Whatever they set in front of me, I’m gonna eat it and get this date over with.
But then Nick starts talking and doesn’t stop.
He doesn’t stop when the waitress drops off a Pepsi for me and a beer for him. He keeps talking when she brings out our chicken enchiladas with mole. And he keeps right on going as we eat.
And there’s only one subject to his long, twisting monologue. Himself. His likes, his dislikes, what clothes he prefers to wear, what music he listens to, his gym workout, his movie preferences. Him, him, him.
He doesn’t ask what I like to do, what I think about the food, if I’m a rap music fan or not, or even if I’ve got any opinions on the world at all.
So when my phone rings, I have zero guilt about holding up a finger and telling Nick that I have to take this call. And when he balks, looking offended at my rudeness, I don’t tell him to choke on his enchilada, which is a kindness he doesn’t deserve.
“Hello.”
“Hey, I know you’re busy with your parents, but I wanted to see if you or they needed anything. I know you were worried about your mom unexpectedly calling you home.” Kyle says it in one big run-on sentence, and I can hear how concerned he truly is.
He’s checking on me. And even checking on my parents, which is undeniably sweet. I have no doubt that if I said I needed something, Kyle would make it happen. That’s the kind of guy he is.
“Yeah,” I drawl out, looking at Nick and judging how much I want to say. Deciding ‘fuck it’, I tell Kyle, “Mama tricked me. She didn’t need dinner. She set me up on a blind date, which I’m on right now.”
I hear squeaking like he’s quickly sitting up in a chair or his couch or somewhere, and then he growls, “Are you serious? Dani, if you’re fucking with me, it’s not funny.”
Nick narrows his eyes, looking at my phone, and I wonder if he can hear Kyle.
“Nope,” I say evenly. “Not joking. Nick is a manager at Walmart,” I report.
Nick whispers, “Assistant manager.”
I lean forward, acting like I give a shit what he said. “Oh, my bad… assistant manager.”
“Do you need me to come get you? I’m getting on my bike. Just tell me where you are.”
I hear a door closing on his end, and I can picture him striding across his front yard, throwing a leg over Lucille, ready to come to my rescue. But I don’t need a rescue. This date was a loss before it started, and I’m pretty sure Nick sees that now too.
“I’m fine,” I say with a resigned sigh. Kyle says my name warningly, so I’m firmer when I say, “I’m okay, really. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
I hang up, wishing I could talk to Kyle all night instead of being here, because somehow, not hurting my mom ends up hurting me more often than not.
“Sorry,” I tell Nick, “that was a friend I had plans with tonight but had to cancel on because Mama told me she needed dinner.”
“I heard,” he says, his dark brows furrowing together. And though I expect more questions about that, he plows right on with what he was saying before my phone rang. “So, yeah, a two-year business degree is totally doable with online classes and would increase my salary by four dollars an hour.”
Is. He. Fucking. Serious?
I feel my jaw drop open in disbelief, but Nick doesn’t even notice because he’s scooping up the last of his rice and beans. I shake my head and do the same, going back to my meal because as awful as the date is, Nick is right about one thing. This mole is delicious.
The rest of dinner, he keeps talking, and though I finish my Pepsi, plus a second, even the caffeine can’t keep me awake. He’s not a bad guy, truly. He’s just not what I’m looking for, mostly because I’m not looking for anyone, as I’ve repeatedly told my family.
Thankfully, Nick says he has the early shift at work tomorrow and heads toward my house right after dinner, plugging my address into his GPS even though I tell him that I can direct him there.