Although, I felt like most guys who called themselves good guys were actually shitty guys in hiding, like Trent, but that fact didn’t matter. I was nothing like Trent, and I would make up for the horribleness of our last date.
“Well,” I said, backing the car up out of the driveway, “your sister can rest easy. You’re in good hands tonight.”
She said nothing for a while, her green eyes simply watching me as I drove us out of town. The place we were going was a much fancier place than Sumit would allow. Needed to hop a town over to get the really fancy restaurants and bars.
Bree was apparently only twenty though, and bars were out of the picture for a date.
“You seem better tonight,” she remarked, fiddling with her hands on her lap. Was she nervous? Was she worried that I’d be a dick again? I hated that she’d gotten that impression of me, hated that she thought I could be like that. I wasn’t.
Not on purpose, anyway. I didn’t think anyone could sit down and expect their girlfriend of a year to cheat on them with their best friend, so I liked to think I had a good reason to not be myself. But, again, that was no excuse. Bree didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my attitude, even if that attitude was something along the lines of I don’t want to be here.
That’s how it was last weekend. Tonight, I…I did want to be here, with her. I wanted to make it up to her. I wouldn’t say I was ready to get back into the game, but…it did look like it was inching closer. Focusing on another girl was a good way to get my mind off what happened.
Bree and I would have a good time tonight, that much I promised myself.
“I am,” I said, giving her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I really am sorry for how I acted last weekend. I wasn’t myself. You didn’t deserve it.” As I glanced over at her, she looked so tiny, sitting there in the passenger’s seat, her body almost frail. Did this girl eat enough? She seemed skinny, and last weekend I didn’t think I’d seen her eat even a bite of her small salad.
Tonight, that would change. I would force this girl to eat something. At least a bite.
She picked at her nails, doing anything but looking at me again. Bree did not seem like the kind of girl who enjoyed lots of eye contact, and it did not give her an aura of confidence; the exact opposite, really, and I wondered why that was. Sure, she wasn’t exactly the stereotypical American girl with that pink hair and the jagged way her bangs were cut, but she wasn’t ugly.
She…she was actually quite pretty. Pale, smooth skin, no freckles or blemishes anywhere that I could see. A small button nose, a tiny chin that housed a pair of full lips. The emerald hue of her gaze needed no makeup to brighten it up.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I wasn’t on my best behavior, either.”
“You were dragged on a date with a stranger, so I don’t blame you. I’m sure you had other things to do.” As I said it, I remembered what Kyle had told me. She never went out, stayed cooped up in her parents’ house.
“Not really,” Bree muttered. “I don’t know why you wanted to try again.” Finally, she turned to look at me. She liked to look, I think, when I wasn’t staring at her, like she didn’t want me to know that she was currently looking at me. Shy, maybe? “I know I’m not your type.”
Something twisted inside when I noted how sad she sounded right then, like she had no hope for this date, or for me. Even though I’d thought it myself, hearing her say it aloud was something I wanted to argue with, for whatever reason.
I shrugged as I made a left turn. “Well, I haven’t had good luck with my type.”
“I’m sorry.” Was she sorry for me not having good luck, or was she sorry for simply being herself? At this point, I had no idea which one was the case.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” I flashed her a grin. “Let’s just try to have fun tonight, okay? You and I are starting over.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her nod once, though she still didn’t seem too sure.
Soon enough I pulled the car into a packed parking lot. A fancy Italian restaurant, the kind where the waiters wore all black and the food on the menu didn’t have prices listed, nor any descriptions given for the entrees you couldn’t even pronounce. I knew it would intimidate her, especially when I’d seen her walk out of her house the opposite of dressed-up, but I was here. I’d walk her through it.
Why was I taking her to the fanciest place around? It wasn’t like I was trying to impress her, but…
Okay, maybe that’s what I was trying to do. Sue me. I wanted to make up for last weekend, and I didn’t want her to think of me as the slouched, hoodie-wearing older brother of her sister’s boyfriend. I wanted to blow everything she thought she knew about me from her mind.
As we got out of the car, Bree watched another couple walk towards the restaurant’s front doors. She looked at their outfits, and then down at herself. “I’m not dressed for a place like this.”
No, she wasn’t, but that was okay. They wouldn’t deny us service.
I moved around the car, offering her my arm as I stood beside her. “Follow my lead, and no one will look twice at you.”
Bree ducked her head at that, and I immediately wondered if it was the wrong thing to say. Maybe this girl was used to no one looking twice at her.
It took her a long while, but eventually she slid her arm around mine, her hand gingerly resting on my forearm, which allowed me to take the lead and start bringing us through the parking lot. I’d made a reservation earlier in the week—yeah, I totally had this date planned way ahead of time, not that Bree needed to know it.
Walking her to her front door last weekend…I didn’t know. Something inside of me had changed that night, I guess, as I stood at the base of the porch steps and gazed up at her. Or, rather, at her, because she was a pretty short girl.
We were seated right away, in a snug little booth in the corner of the restaurant. The lighting inside was dim, small glass globes resting above each individual table. The place was packed, mostly with older couples on a date night, wearing clean-pressed clothes and suits. I would venture to say Bree was the youngest one in the restaurant, including all of the wait staff.
Once our drinks were ordered, I had to help her choose what to get for her entree. She tried telling me she didn’t want anything, but I wasn’t going to take that for an answer. I explained to her what everything on the menu was, and she was unreadable. It was like nothing at all in particular caught her eye or sounded good to her, so in the end I made the choice, well aware that she probably wouldn’t eat it, but oh well.
At least I tried, right?
After our waiter came back with our drinks and took our order, along with taking the leather-clad menus away, I watched as Bree ran a finger down the side of the glass in front of her. She got water, big shocker there.
The more I stared at her, the more I wondered about her. She certainly didn’t remind me of any twenty-year-old. She looked so…serious, so lost in her own mind. And sad. Very, very sad.
“So,” I started, giving her a small grin.
Bree was cautious in meeting my stare, whispering as she repeated, “So.”
God, it felt like so long since I’d had to do this, talk on a date. Get to know someone else. I caught myself about to ask if she’d ever been here, but I knew she hadn’t. Instead, I found myself saying, “Kyle mentioned you don’t get out much.” Shit. Probably not the best thing to bring up on a date, her nonexistent social life. “How come?”