“My answers won’t change, Steve.”
“You have,” Grace scoffed.
“Maybe so,” he said, and we started toward the doors again as he yelled over his shoulder, “Maybe I don’t wanna be an asshole anymore.”
With that, he pulled me into the theater after him, and we stood in line for tickets. I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my eyes focused on the brightly lit board with all the movies listed. He was still gripping my hand, and I jerked when he flexed his fingers. I let go of his hand and took a step to the side.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out for me again. “You were just crushing my hand there.”
“I was?”
He took a step toward me again, sliding his arm around my shoulders and pulling me back to him. I leaned against him, not having any idea what to do with my hands or how to act or what I was even supposed to say. He made me so nervous that not all the dating rules I’d learned in the past, applied here.
Now I was in an alternate universe because that would make more sense than this crazy night I was having. Nothing like this had ever happened to me. Guys like Evan Drake did not hold my hand or put their arm around me, and they definitely didn’t take me out on dates.
“You’re stronger than you appear to be,” he continued, moving up when the line did.
“Have to be. Sorry.”
“Me too. What do you want to see?”
“Comedy,” I said. “Definitely comedy.”
“You read my mind. Comedy it is.”
He paid for my ticket, he bought me a box of snowcaps and a drink, he was the one to hold my hand all night, and he was the one that kept an arm around my shoulders as we walked out when the movie was over.
“Are you hungry yet?” he asked as we walked outside.
As I looked at his hand dangling off my shoulder, I summoned up all my courage and laced our fingers together, my heart fluttering when he immediately squeezed my hand. I looked up at him, surprised, and he just smiled back.
“I could eat.”
“All right then. What would you like? Denny’s or Friendly’s?”
“Going for the big time, huh?”
He laughed, and my breath caught when he leaned in and bumped his nose against my temple.
“Two of my favorite restaurants,” he informed me. “If there’s someplace else you’d like to go, I’m more than happy to take you there.”
“No,” I said, choking on my words. “Denny’s is fine.”
“All right then.” We made it to the car, and he opened the door for me, grinning brightly when I raised an eyebrow at him. “This is still a date, Anna.”
“You take all your dates to Denny’s?”
“No.” He chuckled. “You’re just special-er than the rest of them.”
I laughed and smacked his arm.
“Mm-hm. Sure.”
“I mean it! Half the time, we don’t make it to the restaurant.”
“So you just leave them there after the movie?”
“No. We get a bit distracted.”
“Distracted?”
He shifted uncomfortably.
“With . . . lips and—”
I held up my hand to stop him. “Got it. No more explanation is needed.” I looked down at the front seat of the car before eyeing him questionably. “Maybe a little more explanation is needed.”
“It was always the backseat.” He chuckled nervously.
“Well, as long as the front seat is safe.”
“Totally safe. I promise.”
“Okay then.”
I finally slid into the seat and placed my hands on my knees, looking up at him as he continued to stand there and look down at me.
“You take things like that so . . . easily.”
I leaned forward, splaying my hands out on my knees and shrugging.
“Should I freak out or something?”
“Most girls that I’ve taken on dates would’ve.”
“Well, I’m not most girls,” I said. “You’re going to have to get used to that.”
He licked his lips and crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet. “I want to take you out again.”
“Really?”
“Really. Are you okay with that?”
“Uh . . .” I looked down at my lap and pressed my lips together. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Are you sure? I’m not going to do a single thing to make you uncomfortable ever again, Anna.”
“I’m sure.” I barely hid my smile. “Thank-you.”
“All right.” He stood. “Denny’s, here we come.”
I laughed as he closed the door and leaned back in the seat, running my hands through my hair.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I will do this. Hell, I am doing this.
“So . . . ,” Evan said as he parked in front of my house and placed his hands in his lap, “I have plans with my family tomorrow but, uh, if you want to, you know, hang out later? I could . . . I’d like that.”
I blinked at him. He sounded nervous.
We’d spent the entire dinner learning new things about each other; he liked sci-fi novels and old black and white movies. Soft jazz relaxed him, which surprised me beyond words because it was my favorite type of music to listen to when I needed time to sort through everything in my life; and while he enjoyed going to parties sometimes, he mostly liked just hanging around his house.
He was kind of playful when he was relaxed, and he had a habit of throwing fries at me when I wasn’t looking at him. He even built a fort of sorts around his bacon cheeseburger with them. And he hadn’t been the least bit nervous since we’d indirectly talked about the action the back seat of his car had seen. At least, not that I’d noticed. So him fidgeting and staring down at his lap as he asked to see me tomorrow was not something that I really expected.
“Yeah, that’d be nice,” I said, looking down at my lap as well. “My dad will be golfing most of the day so
