2. Kara
CHAPTER 2
KARA
I have my pretend date with Ty tonight and I'm even more nervous about it than I thought I'd be. This is Ty. If I'm going to mess up in front of anyone, I'd want it to be him. He will be there to save me no matter what.
Ty said to dress casually and comfortably, but I still want to treat it like a date, so I have on my dark dressy jeans and dark red sweater with some black ankle boots. I curled my hair and put on a bit of makeup to take my mind off the upcoming date.
Just as I finish checking my reflection for the third time, a knock sounds at the door. I rush forward but pause, hearing Ty's voice from the other side.
"Bookworm, open up." His voice is soft and teasing.
I hesitate, then crack the door just enough to peek out. He stands there, looking unfairly good in his fitted henley, which still shows off peeks at some of his tattoos, and dark jeans. There’s a bouquet of blanket flowers in his hand. My breath catches as his eyes wander over me, making my skin prickle.
"You look..." he trails off and clears his throat. "You look stunning."
I can feel the blush creep up my face and try to focus on something else because I don't know why I'm having this reaction to my best friend.
"Flowers?" I blink up at him.
And not just any flowers. These are the ones I always pick in the summer. I started back in high school and he'd walk with me, helping me make up bouquets to put in my room. The bright red and yellow Montana wildflower is my favorite.
Ty grins, shoving them toward me. "A guy should always walk up to the door and bring flowers to spoil you on a first date."
My fingers brush his as I take them, and I swear I hear his breath hitches. It's probably my imagination. Maybe.
I step aside to let him in. "I'll put these in water."
He follows me inside and leans against the kitchen island like he has many times before, but this feels different. I can feel his eyes on me as I move to grab a vase and then trim the flowers and arrange them.
He doesn't complain as I take my time and finally set them in the middle of the kitchen island.
When I look up at him, he smiles. "You ready?"
I nod and walk toward the front door. As I reach for my jacket, Ty takes it from me, holding it open. His hands brush my shoulders as he helps me slide into it, lingering just a little too long. The air between us tightens, heavy with something I’m reluctant to name.
I clear my throat. "Let's go."
Outside, he opens the car door for me. "Always let the guy do this," he says with a smirk. "If he doesn't, he's not worth your time."
I roll my eyes but slide in, my heart making a stupid flutter at how natural this feels. Ty stands, watching as I buckle up and then closes the door which gives me a few seconds to breathe while he walks around to his side.
I've been in his car many times. We hang out at least once a week if not more, so there is no reason I should be nervous this time. Only my heart isn’t listening because it's racing a million miles a minute.
"Where are you going?" I’m curious because he insisted on planning everything tonight. Something else he said the guy should do.
"I figure we'd head into Whitefish where there aren't so many prying eyes and there’s a little more to do," he says.
As we drive, our conversation is relaxed and comfortable, putting me at ease.
"What tattoos did you do at the shop today?" It’s one of my favorite questions to ask him.
"I had a guy come in asking for Mario from Super Mario World, but he wanted Mario in assless chaps. He was dead serious and went through with it," he says with a laugh.
"I'll never understand some of the tattoos people put on their bodies, especially something so permanent." I shake my head.
"When are you going to let me tattoo you?" he asks.
"When I figure out what I want on my body for the rest of my life." I give him the same answer I always do.
The drive to Whitefish is easy, filled with laughter and teasing. Ty points out ridiculous landmarks, making up fake stories about them until I'm laughing so hard I can barely breathe. It's always effortless like this between us and one of my favorite things about Ty.
He pulls up to the diner we saw mentioned on one of those food TV shows and said we wanted to try out next time we were in Whitefish.
"I forgot about this place! Oh my gosh, I'm so excited. This is perfect!" When I go to open my door, Ty reaches across me and pulls it closed.
"Stay there." He gets out of the car and walks around to open the door for me.
"A gentleman always opens the car door for his date," he says in a slightly teasing voice.
"Ahh, but I didn't think you were a gentleman," I say.
He shrugs. "Maybe for the right girl."
He can’t possibly mean me and I know that, so why does my heart start racing at the thought? I swear I see a hint of pink on his cheeks, but that can't be right.
Ty guides me toward the front door with his hand on my lower back. His touch has my stomach doing somersaults.
It’s as if he studied a handbook on being the perfect gentleman. He opens the door to the restaurant for me, pulls out my chair, and orders my drink before I even ask. His focus is solely on me. When the waitress eyes him too long and seems to be trying to decide if he’s on a date or with a friend because she wants to flirt with him, he doesn't even notice. It makes me feel like the center of his universe.
"This," he says, leaning in, "is how a guy should treat you."
I sip my wine, my cheeks warm. "You make it look easy."
He shrugs, watching me. "It is. When it's the right person."
Something about the way he says it makes my stomach flip.
"Or when you know the person. My date isn’t going to know what I like to drink to be able to order for me." I hold up my wine.
"Well, I have to take any advantage that I can. I want to set the bar so high that only the right guy will be able to meet it. I don't want to see you hurt,” he says, the last part in a low tone.
We talk about all sorts of things, making the time pass too quickly. Not once does he even glance at the waitress, much to her disappointment. But she finally gets the hint and brings out our food.
He insists on paying for dinner, saying the guy should always pay, but even more so on a first date. On our way home, our conversation flows effortlessly. Before I know it, we're parked outside my place. The air between us shifts, charged with something unspoken.
Clearing his throat, he unbuckles his seatbelt.
"Your date should always walk you to your door," he says before getting out of the car and walking around to open my door for me. He offers me a hand to help me out of the car, but doesn't drop it once I’m out.
The entire way up to my front porch, he holds my hand. His rough, calloused tattooed hand in mine feels like home. There is no other way to describe it, except it feels like a perfect match. Why hadn't I noticed it before? Maybe because we really haven't held hands like this before.
"This is always the weirdest part of the night," I whisper as I turn to face him in front of my door.
Ty smiles, giving my hand he's still holding a squeeze.
"The right guy will take control of the situation and make you feel at ease. He might say something about having a good time and wanting to do it again. That he will call you tomorrow, and then he might try to kiss you," he says, taking a small step closer.
"And how do I respond?" I ask.
"Be honest. If you have had a good time, tell him. If not, say something about having to check your calendar, then text him the next day about not really feeling the date. If he tries to kiss you and you don't want it, step back. But if you want him to kiss you, looking at his lips is a good sign," Ty instructs.
My eyes instantly shift to his lips.
"Maybe we..." Suddenly, my nerves hit, but I push through. "Maybe we should practice what to do in that situation."
Ty nods, taking a deep breath.
"I had an amazing time with you tonight, Kara. I'd really like to do this again," he says. His thumb gently rubs over my knuckles where my hand is tucked into his.
"So would I. I always have a good time with you," I say breathlessly.
"I will call you tomorrow," he says. His voice is low with a hint of a growl.
"I look forward to it." I smile up at him, but my eyes drop to his lips again before slowly tracing back up to his eyes.
Ty leans in just slightly, his gaze flicking to my lips. My breath catches. He's so close. If I move even an inch…
My phone rings, shattering the moment. I jerk back, Ty drops my hand, and I fumble for my phone, cursing the universe.
It's David, the guy I'm supposed to be going on a date with.
I glance at Ty, who masks his expression so well I almost can't see the flicker of something in his eyes. Disappointment? Hurt?
"Thank you for tonight," I say softly. Then, before I can change my mind, I rise up on the tips of my toes and kiss his cheek before I duck inside my house.
Answering the call, I force my voice to sound normal. But the truth is, I don't care what the guy on the phone is saying.
All I can think about is how much I wish I'd let Ty kiss me.