“How many is a couple?”
“Like four or five.” It was actually more like six or seven, but you couldn’t call it a date if you stopped for Burger King, right? “He won’t be asking for my hand anytime soon if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried, but you seem to be. I promise we’ll be nice. No grilling whatsoever. Except for the steaks.”
He smiled at his own joke, and I couldn’t help smiling back. “And if I bring him, I don’t have to go to Idaho? That’s what you’re saying?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
This was so unfair. But maybe Denver wouldn’t be available anyway. I didn’t have any control over his schedule. “Fine. Deal.”
Dad left me in peace to finish my donut and my work. Unfortunately, peace at work was a fleeting thing. Within minutes, Evan came over and pulled up a chair. He needed to log information on the laptop we kept on the end of my desk, but that never stopped his mouth from running while he did it.
“Hey, Lauren. How’s it going?”
“Not great.” I closed up the invoice I’d been looking at and crossed my arms. “The next time you see me around town, forget you ever saw me, okay?”
Evan’s eyes widened. “Okay.”
“I’m not saying don’t come say hi to me. I’m saying, don’t come in here the next day and report on who I’m dating. It’s rude.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, but I can see now why that might bother you.” Evan looked down at the keyboard, continuing his hunt and peck method of typing. Somehow, even when he did the stupidest things, it was impossible to stay mad at him. He was just so nice, and he’d gained enough experience in apologizing that he’d gotten really good at it. Evan also had wholesome, boy-next-door looks that let him get away with more than he should. Luckily, he was too sweet to know he could use it for evil.
Evan looked up from his typing again. “Clay’s truck didn’t start this morning. He and Parker went to go get him a new battery.”
“I know.” I didn’t want to admit to giving Clay a ride, but if Evan found out, he might wonder why I’d tried to hide it. “He rode with me this morning.”
“Oh yeah?” Evan smiled. “I think it’s so cool the three of you got to grow up together. My family moved all over the place.”
I’d heard Evan talk about moving a lot when he was growing up, but never with the wistful tone he had now. It made me feel guilty for fighting so much with Parker and resenting Clay’s very existence. Well, a little bit guilty. They were stinkers, and we would be eternally locked in a battle where I had to fight for my place in their stupid loyal friendship. I wasn’t naïve enough to think Parker would be nicer to me if he didn’t have Clay, but sometimes it seemed like Clay fit in better with my family than I did.
Evan scratched his head. “Yeah. The last time we moved was a week before Prom. And being a dumb teenager, I asked a girl, hoping the move wouldn’t work out.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah, she didn’t take it well.” He was quiet after that for several minutes, which might possibly have been a record. I pulled up the next invoice due for payment.
“Do you think my scruff is annoying?” he asked, scratching his chin. At some point or another, the guys were always trying out facial hair, and Evan must have decided it was his turn. He looked like he was two weeks out from a good shave.
“Well, it’s obviously annoying you. Quit scratching it like that.”
“But do you think it looks annoying?”
“Yes. I think you should shave.” He’d asked, so I decided to be honest. It was growing in uneven, and would only look worse with time.
“Good to know. My girlfriend won’t ever tell me if she doesn’t like something, but I knew you’d give it to me straight.”
I laughed. “I’m mean like that.”
He tried to backpedal and only made it worse, which was so typical Evan. I got another of his splendid apologies, followed by a story about how his dog learned to open the refrigerator by pulling on both sides of the kitchen towel on the door. Evan was great at distracting people. Not something to put on a resume, but helpful today, when there were so many things I didn’t want to think about.
It wasn’t until the drive home, when I realized I now had to actually invite Denver to my family’s luncheon, that I felt like hitting something again. I waited to text him until I was home, with my shoes off, and I’d watered my house plants. I typed out a message while scanning the fridge for dinner options.
Lauren: Hey, want to be my plus-one at a family luncheon this Sunday?
Denver: Cool. Cool. This sounds fancy tho. What do I wear?
Lauren: Preferably clothes. It’s a BBQ.
