“What picture?” I asked, amused now.
His neck seemed to go a little red then and he smirked. “Like I’d have a wife and baby cheering for me and wearing my jersey in the stands. I just felt like if I made it, that would come hand in hand. Realizing it doesn’t work that way though.”
If I could feel a physical crack in the cool facade I was trying to maintain, that would’ve done it. Because I knew that feeling- that reaching that single goal in your head would bring you all the happiness and make everything better. It was too bad life didn’t work out that way.
“I get it,” Isaid.
He didn’t respond, just nodded with a small smile and drank a bit more fruity goodness. I was slightly jealous of the drink.
He seemed to be waiting for me to start a conversation then. It’d been nice that he carried it up til that point. I surprisingly felt the urge to fill the silence and keep it going.
“So, what team do you play for?” I asked.
He smiled pleasantly. He totally had been testing me to see if I even cared to start talking or was fine to sit in awkward silence.
“I’m glad you asked.” He winked, to which I shook my head. “I play for Vancouver in the league right below the NHL. So, I could get called up to the Big Show at any time. Just have to make sure I’m on top of my game. I banged up my knee a bit last year, so my season got cut prettyshort.”
“I’m sorry,” I supplied.
He shrugged it off, but you could tell it bugged him. “It wasn’t all bad. I spent a lot of time working at my old rink. Saw a lot of Grey and Max. But preseason camp starts back up next week. I’m a bit nervous actually.”
I patted his hand lying in the middle of the table between us, which seemed to surprise him. “Well, I bet if you have your whole showboat swag thing intact, it’ll go great for you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I have a whole thing?”
“Oh please! You walk like there’s paparazzi waiting for you. When you show even an iota of self-doubt, that’s when I’m like okay, maybe he’s a real person.”
“Damn girl, you want me to be all afraid?” He leaned back in his chair and pushed a hand through his hair. “That could hurt my brand, babe.”
“See, that!” I pointed out. “That cannot be real.”
“But it is!” he pushed. “Why do you have such a problem with having some self-esteem?” Helaughed.
Now, I know he was trying to make a joke… probably. But that also felt like a personal attack because 1) he’d seen my panic attack, and 2) my confidence hadn’t been intact in a long time.
I grabbed my purse and stood up in a swiftmotion.
“Goodbye.”
He seemed shocked by my sudden movements, but I forced myself to turn away from his stupidly cute face.
The date had lasted longer than I thought it would in the first place, but I knew it would end this way.
I stomped all the way to my car, also stomping out any tiny hope that grew about him.
I threw myself into my car’s front seat and let out a frustrated growl.
Dating was stupid anyway. You willingly met up with a complete stranger and talked about yourself to see if you were compatible, when the person sitting across from you could be a Ted Bundy, taking notes.
And even if he wasn’t a serial killer, did I really want to let this guy yank my chain and make me worry about our every interaction? No. I’d have to worry about meeting up with him and spending time with him and always be hooked to my phone waiting for his responses, then stressfully agonizing over every word I texted back. Who would want that? Not me. The whole thing sounded dangerous andannoying.
I liked being in control of situations, and with dating, you inevitably gave up control and had to place trust in the other person. That was something I had no interest in doing.
I was fine on my own.
This little interaction proved it, didn’t it?
I wasn’t sure what I was thinking when I agreed to come.
