“You know…keep my date looking at my lips,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “I was planning to test it out on you.”
His mouth curves into a smile, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s a good idea,” he says. “But don’t do it on a real date.”
I blink. “What? Why not?”
“For starters, it’ll smear when you eat,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “And if he wants to kiss you, he might not do it if he doesn’t want gloss all over his face.”
“Oh.” Heat creeps up my neck. “I guess that makes sense.”
He glances at me again, softer this time. “But it does look nice.”
I smile to myself, turning back to the window so he doesn’t see it.
I wonder what other date etiquette I’ve missed out on all my life. I thought reading romance would teach me all I need to know about dating and love. I mean, all the female characters inmy books wear gloss without a problem and the male characters never complain about it.
But then again, that’s fiction.
“What about my outfit?” I ask after a moment. “And my hair?”
A small smile plays on his lips, making something in my chest tighten. “You look perfect, Kairi.”
And yet, I don’t feel like I really do. I feel like I’m trying to be someone I’m not; someone palatable.
By the time we arrive,the restaurant is just busy enough to feel alive without overwhelming me. Our waiter leads us to a table, and Colton pulls my chair out for me, waiting until I sit before sliding in.
It’s such a small thing to do, but it doesn’t feel small to me.
The waiter hands us both a menu and promises to return in a couple of minutes.
“What are you getting?” Colton asks a few minutes later.
“The truffle pasta,” I say. “What about you?”
“Same.” He glances at the drink menu. “Something to drink?”
My eyes drift to the cocktails, but maybe that’s asking too much from a first date.
“I’ll just have water,” I say, closing the menu.
He studies me for a second, then silently nods.
When the waiter returns, Colton orders for the both of us, except instead of ordering two waters, he orders himself a Mai Tai cocktail and I instantly regret not doing the same. Butwhen the waiter returns with our drinks moments later, Colton gestures to the waiter that the cocktail is for me.
“But you ordered it,” I say, my brows furrowing.
“I ordered it because that’s what you actually wanted,” he replies simply, making my stomach flip. “Which brings us to our first lesson—don’t try to impress your date by pretending to be someone you’re not. You’ve never not ordered a cocktail or some sort of alcoholic beverage when you eat out.”
My cheeks warm and I nod. “Thanks,” I murmur, lifting the glass and taking a sip.
The citrus hits my tongue, and I close my eyes for a second, indulging in the bright sweetness of it.
“Good?” he asks.
“Very,” I reply, licking my lips.
When I open my eyes, he’s watching me and something shifts in his expression before he looks away.
“Good,” he says quietly.
