He huffed out a laugh and even he heard the edge in it. The total lack of humor. “Right,” he said. “The rules. I think you know they were always yours, Dani.”
Nineteen
“Dani. Hey.” Soulmate date number five leaned in to kiss her cheek, a day’s worth of soft scruff brushing her jaw. Spicy cologne filled her nostrils, warming her against the early September air.
Ryan Tulci. Tall, dark-blond hair, cut like a statue. Also, the highest scorer yet of all her matches. He’d messaged her a few weeks ago, but she’d had the Jansen party with Dylan. This was the first night they could fit in both of their planners. It felt good having a high score for date number five. She was more than halfway through this, and she needed her odds to increase. And looking at Ryan, it seemed that increase they did.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, appraising her but stopping short of ogling.
“Thank you.”
Ryan let his hand fall to her lower back, leading her down the sidewalk. “I hope you like Italian food. I made a reservation, but we can change it if you’d rather something else.”
Something annoying buzzed in her brain at the cuisine choice, but the last thing she needed was a bratty outburst of Dylan’s ruining an entire genre of food. Or this date.
She’d been thinking about it all day—the way Dylan had spoken to her. Maybe he was right. Maybe they needed to rein things in. She supposed he had a point about her talking about other guys while they cuddled on the couch. And maybe if she really dug down deep, she might admit she’d said it because they’d been cuddling on the couch.
Things were getting messy and she knew it. She’d known it since the night of the Jansen party when Dylan had asked if he should leave, and her heart had sunk at the thought. She’d wanted him to stay. She’d been wanting him to stay more and more. It scared her, so she’d thrown Ryan’s name out there to see what would happen. And then that happened. And it caught her completely off guard.
Ryan stopped in front of a restaurant and turned to her, waiting for her response.
Enough. Dylan and whatever had happened last night couldn’t interfere with this date. This one had promise.
“Italian is great,” she said.
“Great.” Ryan’s shirtsleeves were rolled up, and his veiny forearms flexed as he held the door open for her. They were the arms of a man who lifted heavy things for fun. His picture on his profile showed him wearing a track jacket with the logo of a local gym on the chest. She’d actually been a little surprised when he’d shown up in a dress shirt and slacks, expensive shoes. He wore wire-rimmed glasses like Benji’s and his hair flopped casually at the top. He looked sort of like a body-builder librarian.
“I’m glad we could do this,” Ryan said after they’d taken a corner table and got their drinks.
“Me too.”
“I actually just moved here a couple of months ago from New Hampshire. I’m still getting used to the city, but I’ve been wanting to come to this restaurant. It’s obviously better with you.”
Normally she would have rolled her eyes at a line like that, but his smile was so the opposite of cocky, she instantly believed him.
“I’m glad we could do it too. I’m sorry again that it was so difficult to schedule.”
Ryan sipped from a lowball glass of bourbon, the low light bouncing off of each cut of the glass like a prism. “I have a theory about that, actually.”
“Oh, really?”
“It’s not exactly my theory, but something along the lines of good things come to those who wait.”
The flirtatious comment slid down her body like molasses. He was smooth, this one. But somehow he pulled it off without even a hint of smug. Maybe it was the glasses or the way all his teeth showed when he smiled, but Ryan’s brand was genuineness and he seemed to wear it proudly. Unlike some people who make you wade through innuendo and jokes for a glimpse of the real them. Or who can’t even express themselves without getting irrationally upset and letting it out in an outburst.
She lifted her drink to her lips, letting her eyes wander around Ryan’s face. “I’ve definitely heard that theory before,” she said, leaning closer and pushing out the thought of that other particular someone. “And I’m interested to test it myself.”
The afternoon after her date with Ryan, Dani stood in Cat’s kitchen, filling a plate with football snacks. The house was full, everyone gathered around the television for what was apparently an important game for the guys’ alma mater. She hadn’t planned on coming over, given how awkward things were between her and Cat, and the fact that she didn’t give a damn about college football, but she knew Dylan was coming and she wanted a chance to clear the air with him after Friday night.
She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left, not even a comment on one of her social media posts or a Not Safe For Work meme. She’d thought a lot about it after Ryan had dropped her off, and whatever she and Dylan had been slipping into needed to stop. She’d let it happen, some part of her wanting to explore the way he was when they were alone—different, surprisingly sweet. But she needed to focus on the dates she was supposed to be going on. The ones like Ryan who had potential. The little twinges of attachment she was starting to feel for Dylan were just her old habits coming back to haunt her. The ones Benji warned her against.
As for today, there would be no kissing at a group event, no weird heart-thumps or cuddling on the couch. No chance of anything getting confusing. They could get back to their easy way of being around each other. Whenever Dylan decided to show. Normally, he would be the first one there since he lived right down the road, but it was past kick-off and he still hadn’t shown up.
“You want some chicken, Dani?” Josh held out a platter of wings, and she nodded. He put some on her plate, and she followed behind him into the living room.
Shawn and Minnie were there. Someone had drawn orange stripes on their son’s face. Shawn’s Hokies t-shirt, that he’d proudly informed them was the one he got at freshman orientation, struggled against his not-so-eighteen-year-old-frame. Josh had on his old, ripped V-tech sweatshirt that she’d only ever seen on Cat.
Cat poked Dani’s arm as she took the seat beside her on the couch. “Josh put garlic sauce on that chicken,” she said with a mouthful of potato chips.
Dani’s face fell and Cat snickered. At Spring Fling their senior year, Dani had consumed a few too many Bahama Mama wine coolers before she and Cat had ended the night with a large order of garlic knots from Stavros. The combo was less than enticing on the way back up. Even now, the flavor made her gag reflex kick.
“You married a monster.”