"I'm so sorry," he started when he saw the look I was giving him. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I just ... I haven't dated in a long time. Not since my ex fiancé left me at the altar."
That sentence deflated my stance a little. He'd been left at the altar? Ouch.
Wait, but was he lying? After the evening I'd endured, I wouldn't put it past him.
"I know you have no reason to believe me," he said.
I nodded. That was one thing he had right.
"But my family was so worried because I haven't really dated since Sheila. So when Whit arranged this blind date, I didn't see the harm in telling them about it. My mom may have implied a first date wasn't enough to show that I was completely over my ex, so I may have implied it wasn't a first date…and now here we are," Harry said, a lopsided smile appearing on his face.
The anger I'd felt moments before dissipated. Not enough to ever go on a second date with him, but I wasn't sure I still wanted to kill him.
"You should have given me a heads up," I said.
Harry nodded but then paused. "Would you still have come?" he asked.
I shrugged. If I was honest, probably not. I didn't know Harry enough to endure a situation like the one I just had for him. Even with a heads up, it would have been uncomfortable.
"Did I ruin all of my chances with you?" Harry asked.
I scoffed. "Um yeah."
Harry chuckled. "I thought so. And it sucks. Because I think we might have gotten along really well," he said.
I bit the inside of my lip. Now if I had met this guy instead of the one hiding behind his mom, maybe this could have gone somewhere. But it was too late. I had seen too much.
"I know it's not fair of me to ask you, but can you stay? For my grandmaw?" Harry pleaded. That was low. Maybe it was a good thing he'd shown me this side of him first. I might have fallen for that charming side and then only found this side after wasting too much time. But I guessed I could give Harry one evening.
"What are you going to say when I never come back?" I asked, my arms folded across my chest.
"At least you didn't leave me at the altar?" Harry said with a grin that told me he wasn't too broken up about his fiancé, at least not anymore.
"Fine," I said as I turned back toward the dining room. "But you and Whit owe me."
Harry nodded because I was pretty sure he would have agreed to anything at that point, then led me back to the dinner where I scarfed down my fair share of spaghetti and birthday cake.
The rest of the dinner conversation wasn't too bad either. I told Harry's mom about my job and avoided any talk about what I would do after I bore Harry's children. I talked to his grandmaw about my siblings and their families and just avoided any implication that she'd be meeting them at our wedding soon.
I did mouth you owe me to Harry when his grandmaw approved of my childbearing hips.
Finally the evening was over—Harry had been kind enough to bring a present from both of us—and I started to walk toward the front door, reveling in the fact that this night would be a part of my past in just a few minutes.
"Before you go, Sweetie …" Harry's grandmaw caught me by the arm.
I had been so close.
I turned to smile at her and she held out a cup for me to look at.
I took the cup to examine it, unsure of what I was supposed to find in it.
"This was Harry's. I've kept it all of these years so that his kids could one day use it. Your kids," she said.
I tried to keep my smile on my face, but I could feel it faltering. I needed to get out of there. "That's nice," I finally mustered. But that was it. I couldn't stand to live this lie anymore.
I chanced one last glare in Harry's direction before turning on my heel and calling out, "It was so lovely to meet y'all!" My mama's southern manners were instilled too deep for me to do otherwise.
I opened the door and took in a deep breath of sweet freedom, letting the door fall shut behind me.
It wasn't until I was in my car that I realized I still had that dang cup in my hand. I'd stolen a family heirloom.
I let my head fall against the headrest and looked up at the house, considering actually going back.
Nope. Not gonna happen.
Whit could give it back to Harry after we "broke up."
Chapter Two
I woke up and turned over in my white, silk sheets, focusing on one of the white-framed photos I had on my wall of Easton's travels around the world and wondering if the night before had really happened. As I recalled some of the details of the night, I realized that kind of stuff was beyond even my imagination. No way could I have dreamed it up. It was all reality.
I groaned as I kicked off my sheets and walked to my very yellow master bathroom to brush my teeth. My thoughts went quickly back to the night before, and I hoped for a moment it had all been a dream.
But sure enough, sitting on the counter was the cup.
"Ugh," I groaned around my electric toothbrush. This was why I hated first dates.
I grumpily looked toward the yellow-tiled shower, but the rumblings of my stomach won out. Breakfast then shower.
I opened the door to my room and heard the TV playing the Braves game. That could only mean one thing. Easton was home.
I contemplated running back into my bathroom and actually taking that shower but decided this was Easton. I might be in love with him, but he'd also seen me at my worst. We had once gone on a week-long hiking trip where neither of us had showered the entire time. It was disgusting and one of the best times of my life. If Easton could see me like that, he could see me like this: rat’s nest in my hair and all.
"Morning," I called out as I made my way down the short hall toward the blue kitchen. Where everything in the master bathroom was yellow and the guest bathroom Easton used was pink, the kitchen had blue countertops, tiles, and even cabinets. It was a robin egg blue that I didn't hate but also didn't love. The owners of my apartment complex seemed to have an affinity for color. Thankfully, every other wall in the place was white. I'd kept them mostly free of decorations since one, I wasn't much of a decorator, and two, adding any busyness to the walls seemed to be out of the question with the blues, pinks, and yellows. But somehow the hodgepodge of colors worked. Or at least they did for the cheap price we paid for the place.
As I walked into the main living portion of our apartment, I immediately smelled bacon. Sure enough, an entire spread of eggs, bacon, toast, avocado, and orange juice covered my countertop. Did I mention Easton could cook too?
"Morning," Easton mumbled with a full mouth. "I was wondering when you'd rise and shine. Hot date last night?"
If I had asked Easton that kind of question, it would have been loaded with angst and jealously. When Easton asked it, it was only full of curiosity. This was why I continued on these first dates even though I knew Easton was the man for me. I just wasn't the woman for him.
"Hm," I grumbled as I loaded my plate with everything on the counter. After a night like the one before, I deserved all of this. And some chocolate.
"Oh man, I anticipate a story about this one," Easton said gleefully. He was often the first to hear about my terrible dates, even when he was off traveling the world for his highly successful adventure YouTube channel. He always made sure to connect with me at least once a day, no matter where he was. Because that's what best friends and roommates did. Yup, Easton was my roommate as well. At least whenever he was in town. What said safe, platonic friendship more than sharing an apartment together with two separate bedrooms?