I clear my throat. “I’m glad it was only Rosalie and the new guy with the glasses at the gates. They’re more respectful and don’t follow too close. My girl Rosalie is a whiz with a long lens,” I chatter nervously.
I need to remind myself that this isn’t just a date. There’s another reason we’re here. It’s also a fake-date for the paps. If I remind myself enough, maybe I’ll be more sensible when Ryder touches me.
“What? You don’t know the guy in the glasses’ name? You’re slipping,” he teases.
I look out at the calm blue water as we walk past the small beach that’s just outside of town. The sand is coarse and the water is freezing even at the height of summer, but it still attracts dedicated beachgoers. Kids play in the surf, a gray-haired couple sits on beach chairs, and a group of giggling teen girls work on their tans. “It’s a beautiful day. Archie seems to be happy that we’re on this walk together.”
“And you?” Ryder asks. “Are you happy about it as well?”
“It was my idea,” I say.
“You seem… I don’t know. Different. Nervous.”
He’s right. Iambeing weird. I’ve always wanted to be part of a couple, doing couple-y things. The guys I normally hook up with prefer bar crawls to wholesome activities. But now that we’re here, I find myself feeling shy. Off balance. Vulnerable. Maybe because it feels too good, too right. And that scares me. I vow to just enjoy myself and give those butterflies in my stomach a firm talking to.
I arch an eyebrow. “Don’t think I ever get nervous?”
“I’ve seen you nervous a time or two,” he murmurs. His brown eyes are swirls of gold on this bright day.
I let out a slow breath.
Archie whines and pulls at his leash.
“What is it, boy?” I ask, looking up ahead. He rarely gets impatient until we reach Main Street and he spies the ice cream shop.
He wags his tail in earnest, putting his whole body into it, and I realize he’s spied Rachel, the pretty redheaded girl whose family we just interviewed to adopt Archie.
She’s wearing a swimsuit, shorts, and flip-flops and is walking with a group of other preteen girls who’ve obviously come from the beach.
Ryder pulls his baseball cap down lower, but it’s useless. They are all watching him and giggling.
“Hi!” Rachel says breathlessly, with a shy look at Ryder. She kneels down and pets Archie, who soaks up the attention.
“He remembers you,” I comment.
They crowd around Archie, alternately petting him and staring at Ryder with rapt attention.
Rachel smiles widely. “He’s a great dog. I’ve always wanted a corgi. I hope we can adopt him. I would always walk and brush and pet him.”
Ryder’s brows draw together. He looks troubled. Archie licks a dark-haired girl, and they all laugh.
One of the group works up the nerve to ask for an autograph and a selfie. The next few minutes are spent taking photos.
Another girl gives me a once-over. I think she’s going to say something about my being with Ryder. Instead, she says, “I love your dress.”
“Thank you,” I say, touched. That’s the thing about girls. It’s awesome how we’re always complimenting each other. I can tell she’s into fashion by her edgy haircut and carefully styled beachwear.
“And I love your hair,” I say. “I wish I could pull off that cut. You have the perfect bone structure for it.”
She beams.
A few people on the sidewalk up ahead watch as Ryder takes a selfie with the last girl, but thankfully, no one else approaches us.
We walk toward Main Street. Ryder’s quiet.
After a few minutes, I break the silence. “That family really is lovely. I think Archie could be happy with them. He obviously loves Rachel.”
“They’re not right for him. He needs a family with another dog, so he has company.”
