Doesn’t enjoy the game? I’m…at a loss
Right? The only reason I’m giving this guy a chance is because we made a deal to each go on a date
I would fully support you backing out. Not liking hockey? I can’t imagine. That’d be like not liking football.
Hey, you got me liking that now too
Maybe you’ll love two sports now. Does this guy like football?
I didn’t ask. I couldn’t get past him not liking hockey
Well, this could be an epic disaster for both of us
Well, when you put it like that…
I’m not really being positive about this. It could be the best date of my life!
That’s the spirit
>
Nick! C’mon. I’m serious. We need to make this work
I’ll try. I promise.
Promise, promise?
I said yes, didn’t I?
Okay, fine. I guess. Good luck and I’ll see you tomorrow?
You too
Ihate this. I one hundred percent hate this.
I’m on a date with someone Angie knows from work. My sister all but guaranteed that she and I would hit it off. She’s a teacher—something I want to do after hockey, so why wouldn’t we work well?
Except this whole thing feels off.
I don’t want to be on this date with just any woman.
The only person I want sitting across the table from me is Bex. When did that happen? When did I start thinking—and feeling—more for her? I’m not exactly sure, but it’s a feeling I wish I could give in to.
Both of us coming to the same restaurant where I had my last failed date doesn’t feel like a great idea now. It’s not like we’re going to be able to critique what we’re doing in real time. Now it feels like I’m going to be staring at her the entire time, wondering how it’s going instead of focusing on my own date.
But it’s just as dark in here as before, which means that hopefully not everyone can see how this date goes. Speaking of, based on the time, my date should be here by now.
It’s not filling me with the warm fuzzies that she’s not here yet.
As I look over at the door of the restaurant, the woman I really want to see is here.
Bex.
Holy shit. She looks fucking sexy as hell, in a dark, skin-tight black skirt and a white sweater to show off her curves. The guy she’s meeting is one lucky bastard. Bex’s dark hair curls down around her back, and her face is expertly done up.
Does she even realize the effect she has on me?
Her eyes sweep the restaurant, landing briefly on me and shooting me a small, knowing smile. When they land on someone else, I spot the man she’s meeting.
