my cheek and holds out his arm for me to take. We look like a couple going to prom in this pose, but I don’t care. It actually just makes me wish Ryan had been the one to take me to prom. Wearing this suit. And drenched in this cologne. Never mind, I would have become a teen mom.
In the living room, Ryan stops. I thought we would head for the door, but instead, he’s turning us toward the living room. That’s when I spot cheap Chinese takeout on the coffee table and My Best Friend’s Wedding queued up on the TV. He’s poured us two glasses of wine, and it almost looks as if this is where we are having our date.
Now, I don’t mean to be one of those snobby girls who demands a fine-dining experience for their dates, but I really expected something more captivating than fried rice and a chick flick.
“Your face right now is priceless.”
Ryan’s words sink in, and a relieved smile splits across my mouth. I look up at him, laughing. “OH! This was a joke. Whew. You got me. I really thought—” I break off when Ryan’s grin doesn’t turn into a laugh with me. “Oh, gosh. It’s not a joke, is it?”
He shakes his sexy head no, and I want to melt into the earth. My face turns into lava as I begin to extract my foot from my mouth. Racing over to the coffee table, I cradle the Chinese food in my hands like it’s a delicate peace offering given to me from a foreign leader. It’s sacred. I will treasure it forever. “This is…perfect! Just perfect!”
Ryan is still standing in his same spot, wearing his same smirk, but with his hands in his pockets. Someone should take a picture of him and send it to Vogue. He’s gorgeous, and I don’t want to lose him. I plop down onto the offensive couch and manage to not even wince a little when it bruises my rear.
I pat the seat next to me with an overly bright smile. “Let’s get this date going.”
Now he’s shaking his head at me. I’m the silliest thing he’s ever seen.
Ryan walks over to me. “Set the food down, June.” I wish he wasn’t so confident all the time. He’s the one who planned a terrible first date, and yet, I’m the one that wants to crawl under the table. Ryan extends his hand, and I take it, standing up. He puts both of his hands on my jaw and bends down to kiss me slowly. Smoothly. Tantalizingly.
I do melt into the floor this time.
I’m a dollop of Crisco dropped into a hot skillet. Ryan pulls away, and I see not hurt, not embarrassment, not sadness. A smile. “You don’t remember, do you?” he asks.
My stomach falls like it does in the middle of a thriller movie when I thought I had the plot all figured out, and then suddenly, it shifts.
I shake my head. “Remember what?”
“Our class trip to Chicago for our tenth-grade debate.”
“I remember the trip, but…” What does that have to do with anything?
Ryan shifts his arms around my waist. “We were all on the subway, headed back to our hotel, and I told you, Stacy, and Logan that Jennifer Summers had passed me a note saying she liked me. You rolled your eyes, so I accused you of being jealous.”
And just like that, I remember. I remember wanting to stomp across that subway car and rip that hussy’s hair out.
“You looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘You couldn’t pay me a million dollars to date you, Ryan Henderson. Mark my words. One day, I will move to this city and date a sophisticated man and—'”
“I’ll be a sophisticated, sexy lady, and my man will pick up Chinese takeout after work and bring it back to our fancy apartment, and he’ll be wearing a fancy suit from his fancy job, and we will drink fancy wine and watch my favorite movie.” A laugh bubbles through me. “And then I told you that you could never be sophisticated like that.”
He’s chuckling too now. “As if Chinese takeout and fancy wine is the most sophisticated and grown-up thing in the world.”
I pull away from Ryan enough to look at our first date with new eyes. Eyes that are glistening and wet with unshed tears. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I couldn’t forget it.”
I turn back to Ryan. “Wait. Did you move here because of