Another hour passes of horrible first dates ending awkwardly. The guys move to the next table and we get to watch each other experience another first date at arm’s length. Talk about scrutiny. Some guys have been fun, others a little creepy, some not my type, but all leave me without an emotional connection.
My head freaking hurts. As the buzzer sounds again, I pinch the pressure points between my eyes just inside of my brows. Try it. Squeeze it gently and see how great it feels. You’ll love me for it.
My eyes are closed, my fingers pushed into my “relief” spot when the chair across from me is pulled out and I look up. Holy mother of orgasms. His eyes are the color of cacao. Chocolate lovers everywhere would love to eat these beautiful things up. His brown hair is faded high, naturally swooped to the side. His jawline…that damn jawline was carved out of granite and the scruff only adds to the sex appeal. His mother should win awards for his cheek bones.
My mouth goes dry. This man is the epitome of handsome.
“If you press a finger between your eyebrows too, it’ll help more.” That voice is what every woman dreams her future husband will have—rich, smooth, low, and just wow. “Nathan,” he introduces himself as if it’s a chore.
“I’ve tried between the brows, but it doesn’t give me the same relief as just the sides.” Mentally, I give myself a high five for forming a complete sentence. “I’m Brooklyn.”
He looks bored to be here.
“So give me your round of random questions that will give you the sense you know me well, and me the impression of whether you’re a creep or not,” I say with a light heart.
His laugh is enough to burst my panties on fire. He shifts, a mysteriousness in his eyes holding me hostage. “Sounds like you’re having just as much fun as I am.”
“If your night has consisted of where do you live, how much money do you make, do you screw on first dates, and do you like a trouser snake…” yes, the trouser snake was a few dates ago, “then I’m having a blast.”
“I was set up by my friend to be here.”
“Me too.”
His eyes glint at my response. “Mine came with me to make sure I didn’t bail.”
“Oh. I guess I lucked out. Mine didn’t come but did fail to mention the small print in the agreement she forged my name on. I debated running before it all started.”
His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, the corners teasing a smile. “Sounds as if you’ve been the one answering the questions tonight. Turn the tables and give me the third degree. I’ll take one for Team Setup.”
I stifle a laugh then pry my eyes off his gorgeous face and look to the ceiling to ponder questions. Tapping my finger on my chin, I pretend to think hard. “Do you like pickles?”
His face remains stoic, but I’ll be damned if his eyes do. They dance with mirth and his eyebrow does a little tick. “No. You?”
“No.” I smile. “What’s your least favorite chore?”
His brow ticks again and I swear I feel it in my stomach. “Bathrooms.”
I scrunch my face. “Me too or cleaning windows. I hate windows.”
“How do you like your coffee?” he asks.
My face hurts from the grin I have. “Hot. Splash of milk and if I’m feeling frisky, a whole packet of sugar instead of half.”
He leans forward, closer to me, causing the lights to gleam from his irises. “If someone had something in their teeth, would you tell them?” he whispers like he just revealed the biggest secret he carries.
Replicating his actions, I lean closer. “Depends if I like them or not. Enemies need broccoli in their teeth. Bastards shouldn’t have crossed me.”
He breaks his reserved expression and laughs. “I needed this date. You’ve brightened my night. Thank you, Brooklyn.”
Buzz!
No! No buzz. For once tonight, I don’t want to hear the buzzer.
“Thank you for not liking pickles,” I say, keeping the desperation of that damn buzzer out of my voice.
Over the next few dates, every time I peek at Nathan, I catch him watching me. The second our gazes are locked, something in my stomach flutters and I can’t help but smile at him. It’s hard to focus on the men sitting across from me when there’s a pull to seek what’s on my left.
“Hey.” This guy is handsome and dressed to impress with dirty blond hair that most definitely doesn’t scream surfer and deep green eyes. “I’m Cody.”
“Brooklyn.” I offer a polite smile.
He’s grinning as he looks me over from my hair to my tits. “I understand it now.”
My face pinches with confusion. “I’m sorry. What?”
“You met a friend of mine several dates ago and this entire event, he hasn’t cared to interact with anyone until you.”
Nathan. And just thinking his name scoops my stomach up and drops it, leaving behind a beaming grin. “You must be the friend who set Nathan up.”
He nods with a chuckle. “That would be me.”
“You know. I was set up too, but my friend isn’t here, so I’ll murder her later. But I’m willing to bet you two rode together, so he’ll probably shank you on the way home. He’s miserable and you’re a shitty friend,” I say teasingly.
“I’m sure he’ll thank me later. What do you do for fun, Brooklyn?”
“Read. Occasionally I’ll put a puzzle together. I’m a ball of fun.”
Chuckling, dimples appear. “You don’t look like you’re sixty.”
I bat my eyes. “I’ve taken good care of myself over the years.”
His lips twist to the side. “You should stick around and have drinks after this is over.”
“Are you asking to extend our five minutes?”
With a cunning smirk, he replies, “Maybe.”
“What was your favorite subject in school?” I ask.
“Math. I like numbers.”
Playfully, I sigh and then tighten my lips as I shake my head. “You had so much going for you, Cody.”
Buzz!
He pushes out of his seat. “You’re a spitfire. Thank your friend for me for forcing you to come tonight.” He winks and then moves to the next table, the smile he had with me gone.
Finally, the event is over and the coordinator thanks us, invites any of the couples who hit it off to stay for drinks, and goes back over the rules for second dates. With the exception of a few guys, tonight was interestingly boring and extremely awkward for the most part. I’m not necessarily an introvert, but I’m certainly not an extrovert. As an ambivert, I don’t mind being around people until I’ve had my fill. Then I need to decompress and right now, that’s just my plan.
Grabbing my purse, I make a beeline out of the building, casting a quick glance to the bar. Cody and Nathan watch me, both smiling. Nathan’s gaze is intense and it causes my heart to flip-flop. Ripping my eyes away, I push out the exit.
If he wants a second date, he’ll have to come and get it.
THREE
“How long do you have before you need to put your notes in online?” Aimee asks through the phone.