Chapter 1 #2
“Rules for the date,” Jax leans in on his forearms, which by the way, look even better than his profile pic.
And that’s saying a lot because they were utterly phenomenal in that photo.
“So, I’m going to be completely honest with you.
I was so nervous I got here early and sat in the back just to have a little pre-game drink to calm my nerves.
And now that you’re here, now that I am looking at you…
I’m going to need a refresher on those rules too. ”
“Of course,” I say with a giggle because I’m fairly certain I’ve been reverse cat-fished if that’s even a thing. Then I pull my phone out and click on the app’s messaging. “How about we refresh both our memories?” I ask. Because I am struggling too. So, I read the rules off.
Neither of us are looking for anything serious.
We are not expected to tell each other anything about our pasts.
He’s paying for the date, no exceptions.
“I guess that means you’re going to have to put that card away,” he says, and I physically feel myself blush. “I guess so.”
“This looks good,” he says, dunking a chip in one of the salsas.
I’m not sure which. The bartender had said something about one being mild, one being medium, and one being hot, but I was too busy mentally marking all the emergency exits and trying to keep my legs crossed to remember which is which. “Aren’t you going to have any?”
I look at him.
There’s a kindness in those blue eyes, even if he does look like an undercover assassin, and even a hint of curiosity.
Then I look down at the food and my stomach rumbles. I haven’t had anything but water today.
The last thing I wanted was for the zipper on my dress to snap.
“I was waiting for you,” I say with a smile. “I didn’t want to be rude.” I dunk a chip into the same salsa as he did, and the flavor explodes in my mouth.
“You don’t strike me as someone who could ever be rude,” he says and I stop, looking up at him and chewing slower.
“Clearly you haven’t talked to me before I have coffee in the morning.”
With that, Jax chuckles. It’s playful and gritty and it makes me smile. I reach for my drink and take a long sip, enjoying the berries, juniper and fizz.
“I’m not going to lie,” he says. “I was nervous tonight.”
“You?” I ask, covering my mouth to hide the fact it is full of chips. “Why would you be nervous?”
“Because I haven’t been on a date in…a long time. Is that too much information?”
I shake my head. But I also zero a skeptical look in on his perfectly chiseled face. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“It’s true. I don’t get out much. I go to work, I go home. That’s about it.”
“And the gym,” I add and then blush.
He smiles, those icy blue eyes of his dancing with some kind of mischief. “How did you know?”
Because your forearms are bigger than my ex’s thighs. For real– you don’t get muscles like that from eating kale.
“Just a lucky guess.”
He nods and takes a sip of his whiskey and for a split second I can see resemblance to the profile picture.
Definitely the same guy.
“Do I look like my photos?” he asks as if the man is a freaking mind reader.
“You mean photo?” I ask, an emphasis on the singularity of it. “You look…” Better? Unrealistic? Photoshopped? “Like I got reverse cat-fished.”
He narrows his eyes to process that. “So…my profile picture was ugly?”
A high-pitched laugh bubbles out of my throat, loud enough to momentarily snag the attention of our fellow diners. But Jax doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he goes on.
“Well, I feel the same. For what it’s worth.”
A lot. It’s worth a lot.
And it makes me nervous.
We order food. Jax gets carne asada fajitas and I get bang bang shrimp tacos with a side of elote. Meanwhile, the conversation flows as freely as the next round of cocktails.
“I say we play twenty questions,” he says, grabbing a fresh chip as the waitress sets a new basket down.
“I think that’s going against the rules.”
“We didn’t say we can’t get to know each other. We just said no past information. What brought us here, things like that.”
“What brought me here was my best friend forcing me to sign up for the First Pick app,” I mutter and then bite my lips. A smile crawls across Jax’s lips. “Oops.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I was kind of forced to be here too,” he holds up a hand. A very large hand. “Not that I didn’t want to be. I just have these…advisors…who thought it was a good idea for me to go out tonight, even though I wasn’t in a very good mood.”
“Advisors, huh?” I ask as our food arrives. “Alright, first question. Do you always listen to these advisors?”
“Usually. They know what’s best for me, even when I don’t.”
I nod. I’m not sure if they’re siblings, friends, co-workers. A therapist maybe?
“My turn,” Jax says as he grabs a tortilla to build a fajita. “If you weren’t here, where would you be?”
“Work.”
“Which is…”
“Too deep of a question,” I answer and he smiles.
“Right.”
We go back and forth like a tennis match, taking turns answering questions that bounce off the surfaces of our lives like skipping-stones on a pond but no deeper.
I learn that he hates sports (odd for his persona) and he learns that I hate scary movies but love horror books.
He doesn’t like cats, but they love him.
I think meditation music is anxiety sparking.
He knows all the words to every song on Frozen.
“Honstly, it’s hard to go anywhere without being flash mobbed by Idina Menzel’s voice,” I tell him. “It’s like she’s everywhere.”
“Everywhere,” he agrees, and we both realize it’s that time.
The cantina is hopping and on a wait. We are in a prime section, and the bartender is coming by to ask if we need anything else frequently.
It’s our cue to leave and she seems very invested in us.
It’s also going to open the night up for debate on what’s next.
Jax pays as he said he would, and we make our way outside. The autumn air is warm still from the edges of summer, but the night breeze is starting to settle in. I take a deep breath, my nerves buzzing.
“So…” he says.
“So. I guess this is goodbye,” I say back.
Jax shoves his hands in his pockets with ease. “It doesn’t have to be.”
I swallow and straighten up a little. “I’m not going to have sex with you.”
Jax doesn’t even flinch. “We don’t have to.”
“No. We don’t. And that’s not why I am here. I am here because–” I stop. We aren’t supposed to disclose that. Fuck.
“Because of your friend and my advisors. I know. But that doesn’t mean the night has to be over. I had an amazing time with you, Libby. I’d be sad if we just walked away at that.”
I stare right at him.
Well…up at him.
The man is a giant.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Jax. You could easily say anything you want in the hopes of this going somewhere else. But that’s not going to happen.”
“And I respect that. I also enjoyed myself and don’t get to do that very often and honestly, I don’t really want this night to be over yet. But I will respect it if you do.”
“Oh really? And if I go to your hotel with you, then what?”
“I’ll make you a drink if you want one. Other than that, you call the shots.”
“What’s the catch?”
“I don’t know anything about your life, and you don’t know anything about mine. I don’t know what you have to do when you wake up in the morning. Who depends on you, what your days look like when the gears are grinding. The only thing I know is that we are both here for a reason.”
“Yeah because we were forced against our wills to use First Pick.” I’m joking but I’m not.
“But we didn’t have to stay this long. And yet…here we are. So, I’ll say it again. I’m having a great time, and I’d like a nightcap. You call the shots, including your answer to this question. Either way, even if we are saying goodnight…I’m glad we did this.”
I should walk to my car. I should leave the date right where it’s at and let it be.
But…I kind of don’t want it to be over either.
Jax is waiting patiently for an answer, looking at me, the stars, a group of college kids walking by, then back at me.
I’m still on the fence. Do I want a night where I can just forget about my life, where I can forget about what tomorrow holds and the grasp of the past? Sure.
But I also remind myself definitely no sex.
That would require getting naked.
And that is off the table.
Or bed.
Or any other surface.