Chapter NineMicah
Chapter Nine
Micah
At this point, Kinley is just as invested in my dates as I am, and I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
It’s how we became friends, so I guess it’s good?
It only took her a couple of weeks to recognize me every time I met a date at the restaurant where she works, and after a few weeks she timidly pulled me aside to ask why I kept meeting so many different men.
She thought maybe I was having business meetings or something because no one would go on that many different dates so frequently.
I would. Do. And I don’t need anyone to tell me that it’s getting a little ridiculous. But how else am I going to find my soulmate?
“Hey, girly!” she says when I walk into La Bella a few minutes before seven. She pats the stool next to her. “Got a new one tonight?”
I roll my eyes. “When was the last time I actually went on a second date?”
“I’m choosing to remain optimistic. I’m still trying to figure out how none of them ever stick.”
I sigh. You would think, with how many men ask me out, I wouldn’t have this problem of never finding a relationship, but I literally can’t remember the last time I clicked with a guy enough to pursue anything beyond the first date. It’s more than a little disheartening. “You and me both.”
“How did you meet tonight’s victim?”
A middle-aged couple comes into the restaurant, so I have to wait until Kinley directs them to a table and returns to the front.
“He ran into me at the park,” I say.
“Oh, did you already know him?”
“No, he literally ran into me at the park.” I played it off as nothing, but I definitely have a bruise from Brennan’s elbow slamming into my arm. He may not have been the most creative when it came to finding a way to meet me, but I appreciated his clever twist of Fischer’s veiled insult.
Speaking of Fischer… “I have news.”
Kinley’s eyes light up. “Fischer news?” I told her about him last week, after the whole catering thing, and she’s been asking about him ever since.
“He has muscles , Kinley.”
“No!” Grabbing my arm, she jumps up and down a few times. She’s very much like me in enthusiasm, which is why I always plan my dates around when she’s working. She never makes me feel silly for getting excited about things. “There’s no way!”
“There is a way, and it comes in the form of seriously delightful forearms.” Despite falling into him when we first met, I had pretty much forgotten that he was a solid man because he’s always wearing button ups and suit coats.
But today at the park, when he rolled up his sleeves, I got my first look at the man beneath the business casual.
He kept his sleeves rolled up when we got back to the office and got orders from Grant and Lila, and hoo boy .
Fischer wasn’t happy. While he listened to Grant describe what might have been the worst song lineup in history, he kept clenching and unclenching his hands, giving me an up close and personal view of Forearm City. I can only imagine what the rest of him looks like.
“Are you still texting him?” Kinley asks.
I haven’t texted him yet tonight, mostly because I’m still bugged by his assessment of me.
He seems to think I’m some sort of player, or whatever the female equivalent of that is, even though I want to settle down and find true love more than anything.
Does he know that about me? No, because he only just today started asking me questions.
Why does no one ever want to know about me?
“Sort of,” I say because that’s easier than explaining why I’m frustrated by how confusing this man is.
“You know there’s gotta be some good biceps above those forearms,” Kinley says, eyes growing wider as if she can see him. “Okay, but you seriously have to get me a picture of this guy. How many times have I told you I need to see him? Now I definitely need to know what he looks like.”
I can’t help but laugh as I shake my head at her.
She’s been asking for a picture of Fischer since the minute I told her about him, but I don’t think she realizes how observant he is.
I’ve tried once or twice, and he always seems to look up whenever I point my phone toward him.
And I definitely didn’t try today. Nope, I mostly avoided him after our walk in the park.
I don’t want to say he put me in a bad mood, but…
He put me in a bad mood. I didn’t even think that was possible!
But when he started telling me I was a shameless flirt, I didn’t like it.
So I played dumb. And then I ignored him, even though Grant spent most of the day at Ember, which meant Fischer camped out in the corner of the office with his laptop, right where I would be stuck seeing his glare the rest of the day.
“I told you,” I say. “Fischer looks like Ian Somerhalder but with brown eyes.”
“And every time you say that, I only want to see a picture more,” Kinley replies. “I just picture a dark and broody vampire every time you mention him.”
That isn’t far off. Especially the broody part. He was even grumpier than normal at work today. Not that I was paying attention. I was ignoring him, remember? But it seemed like every time Grant asked for something, he growled a little more loudly.
I never understood the whole “growly” thing until I met Fischer.
It’s the most curious phenomenon, and I’m pretty sure he growls more than I know because it’s not generally very loud.
It’s just a low rumble in his sternum, and I have no idea how he does it.
I’ve tried, and I can’t replicate the sound.
Sometimes I want to ask him to do it on command, and I can only imagine what it would feel like to have him growl while I’m pressed up against his chest.
“Um, what’s that look?” Kinley asks.
I blink, realizing I was staring at the tablet she uses to assign tables. “What look?”
“The dreamy look you just had.”
“I did not look dreamy.”
“Wait, are you crushing on Fischer?”
“What? No!”
Kinley grabs my wrist, pulling herself in until we’re only a few inches away and I go cross-eyed trying to see both her eyes. “You’ve never gotten a look like that when we’re talking about your grumpy coworker, so you’d better start talking, girl.”
Thank goodness Brennan chooses that moment to step into the restaurant.
I was absolutely not getting dreamy while thinking about Fischer, and there is no way in heaven and earth that I would ever crush on him.
He’s attractive, yes. I’m woman enough to admit that.
But we’re complete opposites, and if today is any indication, I can only spend so much time with him before his perpetual bad mood starts rubbing off on me.
Who would want that?
I’m clearly not gaining any ground in the “making him happy” department, and I’m almost ready to give up.
“Hey, Micah!” Brennan says, giving me a wide smile, even if he seems confused about me being behind the hostess desk. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“He’s cute,” Kinley whispers, loud enough that I know Brennan hears her because his smile grows.
Yeah, Brennan is fairly handsome. He’s got some good muscle definition—though he was good enough to dress up so I can’t see it right now—and a broad smile that seems to come easily.
I’m not especially fond of blonds—I have too many blond brothers—but he works the surfer look pretty well, even if his hair is a bit messy for my taste.
“Let me grab you guys a table,” Kinley says and throws me a not-even-a-little-bit-subtle wink.
As always, she brings me to a table in the corner where there’s a light out overhead, so it’s a bit dimmer than the other tables.
She thinks it’s romantic and refuses to seat me anywhere else, as if dim lighting is all it takes to make a romance bloom.
At first, I thought she could be right, but I’ve eaten at this table enough times to know it takes more than mood lighting to make the magic happen.
Who knows? Maybe with Brennan there will be some sparks. He seems more cheerful than most guys, and that could be a benefit. Maybe what I need is someone to match my enthusiasm so I don’t have to deal with whatever Fischer was dishing out today.
My heart wants me to believe he was jealous, but that’s just stupid. Fischer has told me more than once that he has no plans to date me, which means he has no right to be jealous.
“This is cozy,” Brennan says as he helps me into my chair. Point for him, though I’m not sure how I feel about the cozy comment.
“Your server will be right with you,” Kinley says with another wink.
Brennan picks up his menu, shoulders relaxing as he scans the prices.
Or maybe he’s just glad there’s some good variety.
I’ve seen both. It’s two of the reasons I started picking this restaurant to meet guys when they ask me out.
One: I don’t feel bad if he’s offering to pay because the prices are decent, and I’m not spending a ton if I end up paying for myself, which I do about half the time.
And two: there’s enough variety that eating here a couple times a week doesn’t get old.
“Everything sounds pretty good,” he says, which generally is code for ‘order whatever you want.’
Another point in his favor, not that I’m material enough to care what a guy makes. I can take care of myself financially. But I do appreciate someone who sees a date as an opportunity and not a line on a budget report.
“Everything is delicious,” I say. “I’ve tried everything on the menu, so I’m happy to make recommendations if you need them. I’ll probably go with the chicken parmesan tonight.”
Our server, Sarah, arrives before Brennan can respond to my comment about recommendations, and she gives my date a quick once over before smiling professionally at the pair of us.
Hmm, she doesn’t seem impressed by Brennan’s outward appearance.
Interesting. “Welcome to La Bella. My name is Sarah. Can I get started on some drinks for you guys? Would you care for a wine list?”
Brennan glances at me as if trying to decide his response based on my expression. “A wine list would be great.”
Hmm, lost himself a point with that one. It’s okay, though. Just because I don’t drink, it doesn’t mean he can’t. I’ll have to pay attention to how much he drinks and if his demeanor starts to change.
Brennan chooses a red wine after giving me another searching glance, and he lets me order my own food rather than telling Sarah my order for me.
“So,” he says as soon as we’re alone. “Micah. You must come here often.”
“It’s my favorite restaurant.”
“Do you live nearby?”
I know the question is innocent, but I made the mistake once of letting a date pick me up, and he wouldn’t leave me alone for weeks after that.
He would show up with flowers or wait outside my door to ask me out again, and I started running out of excuses to turn him down gently.
He was a nice enough guy, but there was no chemistry.
Eventually, I had to ask my brother Chad to convince him to move on.
I don’t know what Chad said to him, but he disappeared after that and never returned.
A few guys have tried to figure out my address by asking nonstop questions, so now I do everything I can to keep them from finding me if I don’t want them to.
“I come here because everyone is so friendly,” I say without answering his question.
He doesn’t seem to mind. He matches my smile with his own easy grin and settles at the back of his chair. “I’m glad you suggested it. And I’m glad I didn’t scare you off with my stupid line at the park. I was just so eager to talk to you that I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Aww, he knows he came on a bit strong. His apology makes me smile wider and tack on a few more points. “Tell me about yourself, Brennan.”
By the time we finish dinner, I’ve learned Brennan is twenty-four and is currently in between jobs, but he has had some promising interviews with a couple of tech companies, so he’s feeling hopeful.
He rents an apartment on the other side of town from me and lives with a roommate who’s an accountant.
They have a goldfish they named Barry, though Brennan is convinced the fish has been dead for a couple of days, but his roommate thinks otherwise and refuses to flush it.
He’s funny and smart, and he doesn’t drink much of his wine even though he says it pairs really well with the salmon he ordered.
He even makes an effort to ask me questions rather than strictly talking about himself.
All in all, it’s a pretty decent date, and I’ve smiled more than I have on a date in a while. But does that mean we’ll go out again? I’m not sure yet.
I decline dessert now that I know he’s living off of savings while he finds a job. His pout of disappointment would be cute if it wasn’t overdone, but at least I know he’s interested as he pays the check and walks me out.
“I had a great time tonight, Micah. You are a beautiful woman, and I could listen to you talk about planning parties all day. Could…” Ducking his head, he takes a deep breath before pushing forward. “Could I kiss you goodnight?”
On a first date? He’s not the first one to take that leap—he’s one of the few who have asked permission first—but he might be the first one to look truly nervous about it.
Maybe that’s why I say yes. Or maybe because I get more desperate with each failed date. Either way, Brennan moves in and plants one on me.
And I feel nothing.
Not even a little thrill of excitement or a flutter of butterflies. Disappointment floods through me even as Brennan grins and walks away in triumph, not realizing he never asked for my number so he can plan another date.
I’m not going to call him back to give it to him. Why do they always forget that part? Now I’m going to have to deal with another bouquet of flowers—at least I love flowers—and pretend to lose the card with his phone number on it.
And Fischer is going to give me that look of judgment that he’s been giving me whenever he sees a new bouquet. I don’t know why I care what he thinks, but I do.
Sighing, I slip back into the restaurant because Kinley is going to want an update about my most recent failed date. As long as she has some cheesecake waiting for me, the night will end on a positive note.
Even if my heart has cracked a little bit more. Maybe someday I’ll find someone who ignites that spark inside of me I’m so desperate to find, but the longer I go and the more people I meet, the harder it is to keep that hope burning bright.