“What? A Puerto Rican can’t be a metal head? Metallica, Motley Crue, I grew up on all of that, thanks to my cousins. I’m offended by the stereotype.” Nick’s mouth tipped up in a smirk as he pointed the neck of his beer bottle at me.
My eyes thinned into slits as I glared at him. “I’m not making a stereotype; you just don’t look the part.Notbecause you’re Puerto Rican.”
“Why, I should have a head full of Aqua Net and black liner around my eyes? Life would be tough for me at the firehouse if I did that. No matter how strong the inclination.” He let out an exaggerated sigh as he looked away.
I couldn’t help but laugh. In fact, over the past few hours, I’d laughed more than the past few years.
“And I’m Irish-Puerto Rican.”
I folded my arms and leaned my elbows against the table. “You’re really part Irish?” Nick’s olive complexion didn’t look anything like my iridescent skin tone. We Irish girls had two colors, white and red, then back to white.
He nodded. “Yep, my mom’s name was Patricia, in fact. My full name is Nicholas Patrick.” He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and revealed a black shamrock tattoo extending from his shoulder to halfway down his bicep with “Patricia” scripted across the middle. I got the impression Nick’s mother passed away but didn’t want to pry.
“You don’t look like a Patrick. But then again, I don’t think I look like a Jane.” I traced the rim of my empty glass with my index finger.
Nick’s brow furrowed. “Jane?”
My lips pursed. “Ella-Jane. With a hyphen.” I rolled my eyes. “My . . . Jack started calling me Ellie when we met, and it stuck for everyone except my family. I still get EJ or Ella-Jane from them.” A pang of guilt snuck up on me. I hadn’t thought of or mentioned Jack since I slid into the booth across from Nick.
“Hmm.” Nick fell back on his side of the booth and ran his thumb along his jaw. “I actually do think you look like a Jane.”
“Seriously? It’s my mom’s fault. She loves the old movies where the women have two first names that end with May or Jane. It’s a little silly, I know.” I laughed, but Nick didn’t laugh with me.
“No.” Nick leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Ella-Jane is sophisticated and beautiful . . . just like you.” The air thinned between us as our eyes locked.
My phone dinged with a text and reluctantly I let it draw my attention.
Paige: It’s midnight. Jack’s been in bed for a while, but I’m dying to find out how your date is going!
I sighed as I shoved my phone into my purse. Poor Paige was in for a ton of disappointment.
“Would you believe it’s midnight? I better get home.” I waved our waitress over for the check. I only then noticed the empty restaurant, since I hadn’t looked past Nick all night.
Nick’s eyes widened. “No shit! Wow, I guess we—”
“Lost track of time?” My lips twisted in a smirk as he nodded back.
“Maybe. Time flies when you’re having fun and have a nice view.” He gave me a wide grin. I laughed it off, but I’d found my view just as distracting.
“You’re a charmer, Nicholas Patrick.” I reached for the check, but he pulled it away too quickly.
“And you’re not paying for dinner, Ella-Jane. It’s the least I could do to save your awful night.” After a lifetime of hating my pretentious name, the silky sound of it from his lips turned me to mush.
“You already saved my awful night. In fact, thanks to you, I can’t call it awful at all.” I smiled as I met his gaze.
Nick handed his credit card to the waitress. “Nope. It was nice.” His expression turned serious as his eyes bored into mine. “Really nice.”
After the bill was paid, I followed Nick into the parking lot and stepped into his truck. We made small talk on the short ride to my house, but I couldn’t look in Nick’s direction. Whatever that was with Chad didn’t seem like a date, but this sure as hell did. By the time he pulled up in front of my house, I was about to jump out of my skin.
Nick walked with me up my outside steps. Nerves overtook me as I white-knuckled the handrail. Why was I suddenly so nervous? For some reason, the tension of how to say goodbye was thick. “Goodnight, Nick,” was all I had to say if I could get un-tongue-tied.
“I haven’t had a dinner like this with someone since, well I can’t remember when.” Nick offered a nervous laugh. Knowing he was as jumpy as me made it even worse.
“I know what you mean.” My breathing was shallow as I spotted his chest heave along with mine. Did I get into a time machine and go back to when I was fifteen? I drifted my damp palms over my dress and prayed my knees wouldn’t give out.
“My sister will be so disappointed I had such a bad date.”
“I don’t know if it was that bad.” Nick stepped closer to me, but all I could do was freeze. I made the connection as to what he meant, but I couldn’t acknowledge our dinner as a date.
