“Oh, right, of course. It-it can wait.” I faked a smile but could feel my little surge of confidence from a few seconds ago slowly slipping out of my grasp.
She stood, collecting her bag and car keys from her draw, and tucked the folder under her arm. She hadn't looked at me yet.
“Are you sure?” she said while scanning the desk for anything she might have forgotten.
“Yep,” I replied tightly.
She smiled at me sympathetically as she pulled on her bag and headed towards me, planting a quick kiss on my forehead as she passed through the door.
“Talk soon,” she said, and then she was gone, racing down the hallway in a brisk walk for the foyer and beyond, leaving me on my own.
I wasn’t sure what to do, or how to feel. Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as I thought.
He could’ve done worse.
Chapter 27
Lily
Thursday evening came and went, with Friday feeling like it was about to do the same. What was meant to be a relaxed, holiday long weekend felt anything but. Yesterday still haunted me. I never got the chance to tell Mom what happened. I hadn’t told Kira either. She had left this morning with Aiden for their long weekend getaway at Jones Beach, leaving me with the apartment all to myself as I got ready for my date with Oliver. A date I was even more reluctant to attend.
I would’ve been happy to spend the rest of the day curled up with a book in bed. Instead, I was standing out on the sidewalk in front of the apartment, craning my neck to look left and right down the street or checking my phone as I waited for Oliver.
It was another warm day, so I was wearing a knee-length, powder blue sundress with T-shirt sleeves. The fabric was light, the dress pretty by Mom’s standards. She told me a third date was promising but to still act like it was a first date. I needed to impress him. When really, I wanted to throw up. The idea of dressing up to be deemed attractive just to get a guy’s attention…
I adjusted the thin dark brown belt around my waist for the umpteenth time. Then tucked my hair behind my ear. Only to untuck it again. I took a breath and checked for any sign of Oliver’s silver Audi again. My heart leaped skyward when I spotted it driving up the street.
Oliver was already smiling as he pulled up in front of me and wound down the electric window.
“Happy fourth,” he grinned, resting his arm on the steering wheel as he ducked his head to see me.
“Same to you,” I smiled tightly, picking up my shoulder bag and drink bottle before I got into the car.
The AC was already on high as I settled into the front seat, and it smelled strongly of peppermint thanks to the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.
“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road,” he chimed happily, turning up the dial on the radio a little before pulling away from the curb. The music was just loud enough that a conversation was pointless. In all honesty, I kind of preferred it. It helped avoid talking about our awkward almost kiss.
The Coney Island boardwalk was filled with Fourth of July revelers. Banners of red, white, and blue lined every shop front and food vendor. The smell of popcorn, warm food, and the sea breeze clung to the humid air. Any breath of that sea breeze was a welcome relief against the heat.
Oliver bought us hotdogs and sodas from one of the brightly colored food vendors before we wandered out onto the pier. It didn’t take him long to begin drifting closer as we walked beside the pier’s white, wooden rail. Whether his movement was intentional or not, I tried to maintain the distance anyway, sometimes pretending I saw something in the water below just to move away.
After lunch, Oliver suggested walking along the beach for a little while. It was packed with families celebrating, but we managed to weave our way down to the shoreline without being poked by a beach umbrella. Most of the families were set up on the side of the beach closest to the theme park, so we headed in the opposite direction. Plenty of people were still on the beach, but the crowds thinned out a little in this area.
“So,” Oliver began.
It was amazing how just one word could have my mind jumping to a million conclusions.
Did he want another date? What if he wanted to kiss me again? Or talk about doing it?
Clearly, my overthinking was written all over my face as he looked at me curiously and chuckled. “Everything okay?”
I blinked. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I’ve been invited to your family barbeque tomorrow. For your dad’s promotion.”
“Oh, that’s great. Is your family coming or just you?” I wanted to grimace. This was Mom’s doing.
“Just me.” His smile wavered. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”
