Chapter 20
Ryan
Tonight’s date is…actually going well.
I chose a restaurant that wouldn’t have weird lighting, and she’s not vegan—again, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I’m not getting lectured or distracted by reflecting flames, and that’s two points in the right direction.
It’s not the absence of negatives that makes this a good date. Amber is a surfer, like me. She’s grown up going to amazing beaches around the world and heads to the sand and water any chance she gets. And her opportunities are more frequent than mine because her day job is teaching ballet.
She’s stunning—tall and slender with tanned skin and sun-bleached blonde hair. The turquoise dress she wears accentuates her slight curves and brings out her blue-green eyes. In every way, she seems like the perfect woman for me.
But a small thought keeps poking at me: She’s not Claire.
I tell that thought to shove it and focus on Amber. The sun is just beginning to set behind her, which is a nice touch for our date. “So, tandem surfing? I’ve never tried that.”
“It’s really fun. And all my ballet training makes the lifts feel natural.” She pulls out her phone, swipes the screen, then turns it to face me. “This was my most recent competition this past summer.”
My mouth drops open. A man is standing on a board, riding a wave, lifting Amber high above his head.
His hand holds one of her feet across his chest, the other hand stretched up to grip the top of her thigh.
Her other leg is extended behind her, and her arms float above her head.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen a picture of tandem surfers, but she’s got an incredible physique and the most grace I’ve seen anyone possess.
“How did you place?” I ask.
She blushes slightly and pulls her phone back. “We got first. But there were so many other incredible couples.”
Humble, too.
I nod at the phone. “Who’s your partner?”
“My cousin, Jayce. We grew up surfing together, so our movements are instinctual.” She tilts her head, eyes shining. “But I’d love to teach you, too.”
“That sounds awesome.” Unlike how I told Rena I’d potentially teach her to surf, I really mean it this time with Amber.
The waitress comes to take our order, and I’m especially relieved when Amber orders a starter of ahi poke and the salmon entrée. Definitely not a vegan. When I order the steak, she says, “I’ll want a bite of that.”
I grin back at her. “No problem.”
We spend a moment smiling at each other, and the waitress chuckles. “I’ll be back with those appetizers in a bit.”
“So, math teacher?” Amber asks. “I’m sorry to say I never liked math.” She bites her lip, like she’s worried she’s offending me.
“Most people don’t,” I say. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt my feelings.”
“Okay, phew.” She motions wiping her forehead with a big grin.
“Let me guess, it started with either fractions or long division.”
Her eyes light up. “Fractions.”
I nod. “There’s some research that it might have to do with the number of memory spaces you have as a child.
Everyone develops at different times. And if you didn’t have those memory spaces totally ready when the teacher kept going with the material, then you just got further and further behind and never felt like you could catch up. ”
“Wow.” She nods thoughtfully. “I feel so seen.”
I smirk. “You’re not alone. Math really isn’t that bad, but you need a good teacher.”
She sets one elbow on the table and leans in toward me. “I bet you’re a great teacher.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
She laughs out loud. “And oh so modest.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
The waitress comes with our drinks and the appetizer, and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and check the message—it’s Chase.
Chase
How’s it going with Amber? She’s perfect, right?
There’s that word from him again—perfect.
Realizing my manners, I look at Amber. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have checked my phone while we’re having a conversation.”
She waves a hand. “It’s fine. More ahi for me.”
I chuckle and start typing my response to tell him it’s going great, when I see a notification on the top of my screen—a photo message from Claire. Before I can think better of it, I click the message.
Big.
Mistake.
It’s Claire…in a wedding dress.
The most incredible, perfect dress I’ve ever seen.
Maybe it’s lame to say that as a guy, I’ve pictured my wedding, but I have. It would be at the beach, of course. Simple decorations, flowers in her hair, me and the groomsmen wearing tan suits and no ties.
And, of course, the bride is Claire.
And she’s wearing this exact dress. Maybe I didn’t have all the details figured out, because I wouldn’t imagine sparkly straps and the way the fabric gathers in the front. But I did know it would be simple, while still showcasing the perfect woman—Claire.
Claire
What do you think?
A pit clenches in my stomach. Because I want to tell her it’s the most incredible dress I’ve ever seen, on the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. But she’s sending me this dress because she’s getting married to SOMEONE ELSE. Someone who is NOT ME.
I don’t know what to say to her. Any kind of encouragement will rip my heart to shreds. I’d also like to send a GIF of Bugs Bunny with the major heart eyes—won’t do that either. But I also won’t lie and tell her it looks bad.
“You okay?” Amber asks, drawing my attention to her. “You’re so pale.”
“Uh, no. I mean, yes. I mean…” I glance at her, then back down at my phone. “It’s just…it’s Claire.”
“Claire?” She pauses for a moment. “Is that your sister?”
I laugh, my eyes still on the screen. “No.”
“Cousin?”
I shake my head and look at her.
She opens and closes her mouth, and I see her processing this information.
“I can see how it looks,” I say quickly, but not quickly enough. There’s a slow-building anger moving across her face.
“Is she a woman you’re in love with?”
“What? No, of course not. I mean…maybe I had a crush on her, but I’m moving on now, and—”
“What did she send you? What has you this worked up?”
I rack my brain for a believable lie, but I’m so “worked up,” as Amber said, that I spit out the truth. “It’s a picture of her in a wedding dress.”
Her eyes widen. “A wedding dress?!” She reaches down for her purse and stands.
“Amber, please,” I plead. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?! You’re ENGAGED to someone else!” Her voice is raised, and a few other patrons look over at us in alarm.
“No! I’m not engaged! She’s engaged to someone else!”
“You men are all the same,” she snaps, ignoring what I said. “I should’ve known better. If Chase sent you, you must be just like him.”
“Just like—what?”
She waves me off. “I’m out of here. And to think I actually thought we had a connection! Are you even really a surfer?”
“Yes! Amber, please let me explain. She’s engaged to this loser named Zach. We’re best friends, but there’s nothing romantic between us. You don’t need to worry.”
Finally she hears me. For a moment, her eyes turn soft.
She takes a step toward me and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“If she sent you that picture, she’s probably in love with you, too.
” Then she smacks my shoulder so hard I wince, and as she walks away, she calls over her shoulder, “Tell Chase I still hate him.”
I watch her leave, completely dumbfounded. First of all, what is that about Chase? Second, what does she mean that Claire is probably in love with me? And third, am I forever doomed to be a failure at love?
Of course, the waitress appears right then with our appetizer. I heave a huge sigh and look up at her, about to ask for the check early, but she puts a hand on my shoulder and says, “These are on the house.”
At least someone believes my story.
“Thanks.” I pick up a chip and scoop some poke, then see a phone call from Chase. Furrowing my brow, I answer. “Hello?”
“What did you do?” Chase’s angry voice replies.
“Excuse me?”
“Why did Amber just leave? And text me ‘I hate you and always will’?”
I groan and put my head in my hands, looking down at the table. “It’s a long story.”
A person slides into Amber’s empty seat. I look up and see…
Chase.