pair of sneakers, and wearing less make-up. And this time, when I walked in, Mark’s eyes widened.
“What? Is it terrible?” I asked self-consciously, holding my shirt against me, hoping the Spanx had flattened that loose muffin-top of skin I had.
“No. You look . . . perfect.” His voice was soft and low and suddenly all I could think of was that kiss under the sprinklers and how much I wanted to do it again, and how much I wanted him to tell me not to go on this stupid date.
“Thanks,” I replied, my voice equally low and slightly breathy.
“You have freckles,” he stated.
“I . . . uh, yes.” I lifted my hands to my face awkwardly and covered my cheeks. Shit, clearly, I’d taken too much make-up off.
“They’re cute,” he said quickly. “I’ve never noticed them.”
“I usually cover them,” I mumbled, feeling self-conscious.
“You shouldn’t!” He said it so matter-of-factly. I lowered my hands and our eyes met. I was overwhelmed with a desire to run across the room and throw myself in his arms. I took a small step towards him, hoping he would too, but he didn’t. He turned away from me and busied himself in the fridge.
“Have a good time,” he said over his shoulder, so casually that it sounded like he didn’t care again that I was going.
“Okay.” I stood there and looked at him, but he didn’t look back. “I don’t think I’ll be too late.” I only said this because I was fishing for some kind of response from him.
“Cool. Take your time.” He was still scratching in the fridge.
“You think?” I asked.
Mark turned and our eyes met again. “There’s no curfew here, so come home when you want to.”
I nodded at him. “But if I come home too late, that might give him the impression that this is a—”
“Date?” he interrupted. “I thought it was a date.”
“What’s a date, really?” I said with a chuckle now, feeling strange and awkward.
“Well, in my experience, it’s usually when two single people decide to go out together to see if they’re romantically compatible.”
“Ro . . . man . . . uh . . .” Romantic. I couldn’t get my mouth to say that word, for some reason.
“Candles. Flowers. Chocolates,” Mark continued.
“Yes, I know what it means.” I ran my hand through my hair. “But I doubt there are going to be any—”
“Hello?” A voice made us both turn. It was Zack. And he was standing there in the doorway . . . with a bunch of flowers. A big, red bunch of fracking flowers. My heart sank.
“Like I said . . .” Mark whispered under his breath.
“Wow, you look amazing.” He stepped forward and held the flowers out for me.
“Uh . . . thanks.” I took them and then Zack planted a kiss on my cheek! I tried not to pull away, as I kept my eyes firmly on Mark. Who rolled his. My skin felt hot and itchy and it wasn’t from the kiss.
“These are really pretty, thanks.” I swung my head and looked around the room. “I need a vase . . .” I glanced at Mark, who seemed to be eyeing the flowers with great suspicion. He held his hand out and my eyes traveled down to it. God, this was awkward.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Tentatively, I handed my bunch of romantic red flowers to Mark.
“Thanks, man,” Zack said. I couldn’t help but notice that Mark rolled his eyes again before walking off towards the kitchen.
“Have fun,” he called after us as he disappeared around the door.
“We will,” Zack shouted and then shot me a very cute and dimply smile. But no matter how cute and melty his smile was, all I could think about was Mark’s smile. I really didn’t want to go on this date. But Mark wasn’t exactly giving me a reason not to. So I went.
CHAPTER 59
I crept up the driveway, but it was hard to creep on it—being made from small stones that moved under the soles of your feet and all. I was home late. Despite the fact the date had totally sucked. Turns out that Zack only knew how to talk about his sheep. Conversation never seemed to move on from the dipping of them, the shearing of them, and why Karoo sheep were superior to other sheep. I’d not been able to shut him up, hence the fact I was coming home much later than originally anticipated. The lateness was in no way indicative of the