Chapter TwentyMicah
Chapter Twenty
Micah
“I’m nervous, Kinz.”
Kinley stops organizing her menus and looks at me. “Nervous? You? But you’re never nervous! It drives me crazy how not nervous you always are on dates.”
I rub my arms, wishing I had brought a jacket or something. Sun City doesn’t get very cold, but I haven’t felt fully warm since leaving the lodge. “Yeah, well, I’m nervous tonight.”
“Remind me who this one is?”
The fact that I told her ten minutes ago and she can’t even remember either means she’s exhausted after working the weekend or she can no longer keep track of my dates. I’m betting on the second option. “The pizza guy,” I mutter.
Kinley scoffs. “I can’t believe you said yes to a pizza delivery guy . You must really be desperate.”
Maybe I am. “He’s really attractive,” I defend.
“He’s also late.”
Yeah, I’m not thrilled about it. I even promised Lila to come into work extra early tomorrow to make up for leaving before anyone else so I could get here on time.
“What’s his name?”
“Honestly, I don’t remember.”
Laughing, Kinley wraps me up in a hug. “I love you, Micah, but you’re hopeless.”
“I know.” But not for the reasons she thinks. I couldn’t care less about the pizza guy, and I’m pretty sure the reason I’m nervous is because I can’t help wondering if Fischer is going to show up tonight. There has to be a reason he asked for the details of my date, right?
“Will you calm down?” She puts her hand on my knees, which I apparently started bouncing at some point. “I’m starting to think this isn’t date nerves.”
“It’s not. It’s Fischer nerves.” I haven’t told her about the weekend at the lodge, and I wasn’t planning to. But I can’t keep this to myself anymore. I thought that by ignoring him all day Sunday I might be less confused, but if anything, it’s only gotten worse.
So I tell her. All of it, down to how much I like hugging the man because he feels so steady when so much of my life is uncertain.
She’s lucky no patrons come into the restaurant while I’m telling the story because she’s so completely riveted. I must be an excellent storyteller with the way she gasps and squeals loud enough that she’s caught the attention of most of the restaurant.
“Oh. My. Gosh!” she says, holding my hands in a death grip. “You like Fischer!”
I’m too confused by all the emotions Fischer is making me feel to deny it. “Maybe?”
“Maybe? Girl, you should see your face when I say his name. You are absolutely crushing hard on the grump, and you know it.”
“But what do I do?” I slump on my stool, dropping my head onto her lap. “He said he doesn’t date coworkers. Literally one of the first things he said to me. And I don’t think Fischer is the kind of guy who changes his mind easily.”
As I sit up, it’s clear I’ve stumped her, though she has a determined glint in her eyes as if she’s planning something. I don’t like it. “Maybe you’ll just have to convince him to change his mind, then,” she says.
The door to the restaurant opens, and I get to my feet in case it’s my date. But as soon as I get a good look at the guy, my heart goes wild.
“Welcome to La Bella!” Kinley says brightly. “How many—ow!” She glares at me, but I don’t lessen my grip on her arm.
“Fischer,” I croak.
Kinley gasps.
Fischer glances between us, then looks into the restaurant as if looking for someone else.
“Uh, hi,” he says. “Sorry. I thought you would be… The restaurant sounded good and I don’t have any food at home, so I was going to grab some takeout.
” He says this to me, even though Kinley is unabashedly gaping at him. “Uh, do you have any recommendations?”
“Micah’s date is late,” Kinley blurts out.
I elbow her ribs, but now she’s grinning.
Fischer glances down at his watch. “It’s seven thirty,” he says, as if I haven’t been counting the minutes.
“I don’t think Pizza Guy is coming,” Kinley says. “Why don’t you join Micah so she doesn’t have to eat alone?”
“Kinz,” I hiss. “He doesn’t want to stay in a crowded restaurant.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course he does.”
Fischer’s eyes dart between us, like he’s trying to understand exactly what our relationship is. His gaze settles on me, warming me to my core. “If you don’t mind…”
“She doesn’t mind!” Quick as a flash, Kinley grabs a menu at the same time she takes my hand, dragging me forward. “I’ve got a table reserved for you.”
Even without looking back, I know Fischer follows us into the restaurant.
I don’t usually get embarrassed easily, but I so wish I could melt into the floor right now and end this humiliation.
I’m going to be having a stern conversation with Kinley as soon as Fischer leaves, that’s for sure.
If Fischer wasn’t completely reserved with his laughter, he would absolutely be laughing right now because this situation is ridiculous.
Kinley shows us to my usual dimly lit table, complete with a wink that I know Fischer sees. He doesn’t react, instead taking hold of a chair and gesturing for me to sit.
“Oh,” I say. Probably because I’ve never had a guy pull my chair out for me. “Thanks.”
Kinley shoots me a wide-eyed look before wandering away. If this were an actual date, he would get major points for that one.
When Fischer doesn’t sit after helping me scoot my chair forward, I cock my head at him. “Are you going to sit down?”
He frowns. “Do you want me to?”
I wish that answer was more obvious. “Kinley was right,” I tell him. “I’d rather not eat alone.” I’m just not sure how I feel about this date turning into an unexpected date with Fischer. It has my palms sweating.
Still hesitant, he looks around the restaurant before settling in the chair across from me. “If Pizza Guy shows up, I can leave.”
“Even if he shows up, I don’t especially want to be on a date with a guy who’s more than half an hour late.”
“Maybe he got stuck in traffic.” Fischer takes his napkin and tucks it onto his lap.
“Maybe he got called into work because everyone else got sick, and because you don’t give out your phone number, he didn’t have a way to tell you.
Maybe he’s lying in a hospital bed after a horrible accident and he broke his jaw and both hands so he can’t ask anyone to come to La Bella and explain the situation. ”
I snort a laugh when I can’t hold it in anymore, and I’m already relaxing.
Why was I freaking out so much? Just because I may be starting to have feelings for him, it doesn’t make him a different person.
“I appreciate that you’re trying to think positive,” I say with a grin, “but your silver linings are a bit dark.”
He releases his half smile, making me want to reach across the table and take his hand. “I am out of practice, but you’re saying I get credit for trying?”
“Exactly.”
Sarah comes to take our orders, and Fischer asks for her recommendation, making her blush as she lists a few of the more popular items. She gives me a thumbs up as she leaves, though I don’t know how I feel about her thinking this is just another one of my dates.
“I have a comment you may not like,” Fischer says once we’re alone again.
I raise an eyebrow. “Interesting. What is it?”
“For a girl who has been late multiple times in the time that I’ve known you, it does feel hypocritical that you value punctuality so highly in your dates.”
I fight my smile, trying to look offended. “There’s a difference between being a few minutes late and forty-five minutes.”
“What else makes a guy a no-go?”
Well, this could prove to be an interesting conversation, but Fischer is the type of guy who values honesty. I could easily say a bunch of traits he doesn’t possess, but that wouldn’t be accurate.
“That’s a long list,” I warn him.
He leans in closer. “Okay. What about qualities you look for and appreciate? Beyond guessing your favorite flower.”
“No one has done that yet.”
He smirks. “What does Micah Taylor want in a man?”
“He should be funny.” I pull up my mental list that keeps growing as I get older.
There are some things that are non-negotiable, like getting along with my siblings and being able to hold a conversation with my dad, but a lot of them are more like wishes than needs.
I stick mostly to the wishes as I continue my list for Fischer.
“I want him to have good hygiene and be able to cook. He should like sports, but only enough to make my brothers happy. I want him to like animals and take good pictures of me and enjoy sunrises. He should be romantic and protective and kind, and I’d prefer dark hair over light and dark eyes too.
I want him to make lots of money but not be a workaholic, and to plan fun dates and surprise me with lunch when I’m having a bad day.
I want him to sing silly songs with me in the car and be good with kids and never lose his temper. ”
By the time I finish, Fischer is scowling, and he folds his arms over his chest. “You know that love isn’t some formula that you can count on or even tweak to your needs, right? Dating isn’t Build-a-Bear, and you can’t just invent your perfect man. He’s not going to exist.”
I scoff, more frustrated by his response than I expected. “Excuse me for wanting to find someone who is perfect for me . I never said he had to be perfect.”
He rolls his eyes. “That’s still illogical. Perfect in any aspect doesn’t exist.”
“I see perfect matches all the time.”
“Where? On the Hallmark Channel?”
“In real life,” I argue.
He lets out a single laugh. “Name one perfect couple.”
“My stepsister and her husband. Skyler and Kit were made for each other.”
“How long have they been married?”
I know what he’s trying to do, and I refuse to let him sully the utter perfection that is their marriage. “A few months, but they knew each other when they were kids and immediately fell in love when they reconnected last year. They’re soulmates.”
Fischer rolls his eyes. “They’re blinded by infatuation and living off the high of reconnection. That doesn’t mean it will last.”
For some reason, tears prick my eyes, and I grab a piece of bread to distract myself, tearing it into pieces.
This isn’t how I saw tonight going. “Kit and Skyler were practically strangers again when they came to my family reunion,” I tell my plate.
It’s easier than seeing Fischer’s face right now.
“They weren’t even dating! And they are completely perfect for each other and will be together for the rest of time. ”
“So they were forced together and formed a bond during a stressful situation,” he guesses.
I shrug, thinking of my own stressful situation this weekend. “The forced proximity trope is big for a reason.”
He groans. “You’re comparing real life to your books now?”
“The books are happier than real life, and they cover the broad scope of tropes and meet cutes so those of us who read them can prepare for—”
“Prepare how?” he interrupts. “None of that is real, Micah. People don’t kiss the person who spilled coffee on them when they first met or get stuck sharing a bed at the full hotel and end up together because of it. Love is a made-up concept that makes people miserable.”
There’s something more here. I don’t think he’s trying to make me cry—I think he’s trying to help me avoid disappointment—but his words cut deep because there’s truth to them.
He doesn’t believe in love like I do. And whether he intentionally brought up our own situation with the coffee and the shared bed (in our case, the floor), his argument hits hard.
Thankfully, Sarah returns with our food and a blissful distraction.
“Can I get mine to go?” I ask with a wavering voice.
Though she’s confused, Sarah nods and wanders off to get me a box, which leaves Fischer and me on our own again. Hopefully not for long. He has no idea how much his remarks hurt, and he gazes at me with confusion pulling his eyebrows low.
“You’re leaving?” he says.
“I don’t feel very good.” It isn’t a lie. My hurts are just emotional instead of physical.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe books are fictional and unrealistic in a lot of ways. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope for my own love story. I wish I knew why he is so jaded, but I refuse to let him tear down my dreams just because he lost his own.
The instant I have my food, I’m on my feet, heading for the door even though I haven’t paid yet. Kinley will cover me and I’ll pay her back tomorrow. Today, I just want to go home.