Practice makes perfect, p.23
Practice Makes Perfect, page 23
I go into the bathroom and splash water on my face and prepare to finger brush my teeth just so I can get a grip. She’s got a date. Annie has a date this afternoon. With a guy. A guy named Brandon. A guy named Brandon is going to take Annie on a date.
Not sure why I’m listing all of these facts off like they belong on a wall with little red strings connecting all the clues. My behavior right now is ridiculous. Pathetic. It’s not as if I didn’t see this coming. It’s literally what we’ve been working toward.
She told me up front her goal was to find her soulmate. Oh God, what if this Brandon guy is her soulmate? He gets to be her soulmate and I’m just her practice person.
I squeeze the toothpaste container too hard and the paste rockets across the bathroom onto the wall.
Annie enters the bathroom at that exact moment and wordlessly wets a washrag and wipes away the bright-colored toothpaste. I have to scrape my hands over my face because she looks so authentically beautiful and calm, and that only serves to make my nerves zing more frantically. Why am I acting like this? I’m never jealous. I never care if a woman I’ve been seeing goes out with another man.
I care if Annie does.
“Wilton,” she says softly, taking my shoulders and angling me toward her. “Let’s talk.”
“We don’t have to.” I manage not to sound immature somehow. But I want her to know that she doesn’t owe me any sort of explanation. She is her own woman and I am…just her friend.
“You came over and made me soup. And took care of me. And snuggled me. And told me you like me. And then saw a text that I’m going out with another guy. Of course I need to tell you what’s going on.”
“We’re not together for real, so…it’s all good. You don’t owe me anything.” See? This is why. This right here is one of the reasons I don’t want marriage or a relationship. You can never predict what a woman’s next move will be or when she’ll do something that hurts like hell.
Annie seems determined to make me look at her. She takes my jaws in her hands. “But do you want to know who that was?”
“Is he your date for today?”
“Yes.”
“Then I think I’m caught up.”
She drops her hands away but continues to skewer me with her relentless gaze. “He’s a guy who came into the flower shop last week while you were out of town. He’s a vet and just moved into the town next to ours.” She pauses. “We hit it off and he asked for my number. I told him up front that I wasn’t looking for anything casual right now, and he said he feels the same, so I gave it to him because—wasn’t that the goal the whole time? I want to get married. I want a family. I need to do this, Will. You don’t understand, but I have to get married. I have this gaping hole in my heart, and I can’t close it up. This is the only thing left to try to close it even though I’m pretty sure it’s not going to work, and you’re going to leave, and I’ll get married, and it’ll still be in there just empty and hurting.” She’s starting to cry.
I put my hands on the outsides of her arms tenderly. “It’s really okay, Annie. You don’t have to explain. I understand. You’ve got to do this for you.”
She continues, though. “Brandon and I have been texting a little this week, and he asked me out for today. I didn’t tell you even though I’ve wanted to because I was scared it would push you away, and, selfishly, I don’t want you to go away yet.”
I breathe out as I gently grip her biceps and tug her a little closer. “If there’s anything I understand fully, Annie, it’s acting out of selfish need.”
She gives a sad smile. A brave smile. “He seems nice, though. We have the same goals. I had to say yes, Will. There was no reason for me not to.”
I can’t even get upset at that—because she’s right. I’m not a reason. I told her up front I’d never be a reason. Whatever strange connection we have is a blip on the timeline of our lives. An interlude we’ll look back on fondly. And soon, hopefully, I’ll get back to real life, and Rome and Annie and everyone in this absurd town will only be memories.
I force a smile that I don’t feel at all. “I’m happy for you, Annie. Really. And this is great timing, actually, because I’ve had something I’ve needed to tell you too.” I pause. “I’m leaving soon.”
She frowns lightly. “What?”
“After the wedding.” I try to say this as casually and unattached as possible. “Don’t worry—you’re not pushing me away. And it’s not because of your date with Brandon.” The lie slips out easily. “My boss approved my reassignment to Washington, D.C., and I accepted.”
I have to look everywhere but her face. If I look into her eyes, she’ll see the truth. Amelia called my boss yesterday and said she was okay to be reassigned a new EPA (which feels like suspicious timing), and so the text I read this morning confirmed I’ve been cleared to move on to a new job after the wedding.
The thing is, I haven’t actually said yes yet. I had planned to respond to Liv and ask if I could have a few days to think about it because I might want to stay in Rome after all. But this—Annie’s impending date—is exactly the kick in the ass I needed to remember that whatever is going on between us is fleeting. I shouldn’t change my entire life plans for a person I only met a few weeks ago. I’m following my own advice to Ethan and pumping the brakes. Or…I guess a more accurate metaphor would be flooring the gas and getting out of here.
“But…Amelia doesn’t want a different bodyguard.”
“Executive protection agent,” I say weakly. “And she told my boss she was okay with it. It’s going to be hard to move on from…her, but it’s time. I need a faster-paced life. I can’t stay here any longer or…” Or I’ll start wanting things that scare me. Or I’ll contemplate doing the things I’ve promised I never would. “I’ll get bored.”
In the movies, this is where Annie would feel hurt. It was meant to wound. To cut us both so I’ll stop having these damn feelings and to show her that I’m not the good guy she wants. I’ve got a messed-up past and a messed-up heart that I keep clenched tightly in my fist along with a string of women throughout the country who will attest to the fact that I’ll never release it to anyone else.
But this is Annie. And she does nothing as anticipated.
Her smile tilts into one that’s so damn close to pity that my teeth clench. No one—and I mean no one—has ever been able to read me. But Annie does. It’s like she has the subtitles turned on for my brain, and she doesn’t feel hurt. She feels sad for me that I’m standing here and lying to her.
She looks down and clears her throat. “Okay, well good. I’m happy for you, Will.”
“And I’m happy for you.”
We’re all happy, happy people!
After a painful silence, I finally ask, “So where are you going on your date?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why are you asking?”
I pull an offended look. “What do you mean, why? I’m your dating coach. It’s my job to know everything about your dating life. This has nothing to do with the”—I lean in and lower my voice like I’m sharing a huge secret—“feelings we talked about earlier. Those are officially going back in the box where they belong from here on out.”
She laughs quietly. “Well, if you must know, we’re going to his nephew’s Little League game.”
My eyebrows fly up. “Little League? For a first date?”
She shrugs. “He’s a family man, apparently.”
When I laugh, I sound like a villain. “How perfect. I guess he’s looking for a wife to make him pot roast on the weekends too?”
“I hope not. I don’t know how to make pot roast.”
I hate him. Whoever he is.
But you know what? Brandon isn’t here with Annie now. I am.
“So…do you think he’ll kiss you today?”
Her eyes fly wide open. “I don’t know. Maybe? Oh gosh. Do you think he’ll try?”
I cross my arms and shrug. “I would kiss you on a first date.”
Her eyes hold mine—and they glint. She’s reading my mind again. She knows exactly what I’m doing and approves. “Well…maybe we could practice a first date kiss? You know, just so I’m not caught off guard.”
“Sure. Right.” I nod thoughtfully. “As your dating coach, it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re prepared for that kind of thing.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
I edge closer. “So how do you want to do this? Like…role-play it?”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat while my heart pounds. “Time in,” I say, already pressing toward her.
She takes her fingers and presses them quickly to my lips to halt me. “Wait. I have a cold. I had a fever yesterday. I don’t want you to catch it.”
“Do you feel bad right now?”
“No, I feel a lot better today, but—”
“Then give me the damn cold, Annie,” I say quietly next to her ear. I feel her shiver lightly, but I know it’s not from a fever.
I slide my hands around her lower back, inching along the terrain I’m beginning to find familiar. I have this small divot memorized. The one right above her perfect ass. I know that if I splay my hand against it and press her to me, she’ll gasp lightly and then melt into my arms. I do it now, and after hearing the soft gasp that I’d like to capture in a jar and keep sealed away for eternity so no one else has the pleasure of hearing it, I begin. “Picture this: Your date is coming to an end. You’re sunburned from sitting for hours on the bleachers, and while standing next to your truck, he hands you a Capri Sun he snagged from Pam’s postgame snacks cooler…”
Annie laughs and shoves my chest playfully. “Stop it! That is not how it’s going to go!”
“Fine. I’ll be serious.” I make my face somber. “Annie…I had a great time with you watching children never hit a baseball for five and a half hours—”
“Useless! You’re useless!”
We’re both laughing and Annie is trying to tickle me, but instead, I scoop her up and carry her into her room to throw her on the bed. “Do you think there will be a bed at the baseball game?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thought so.” I hover over Annie and dip my head into her neck, running my lips across her skin. “Annie, thank you for the best first date of my life. Can we go out again?”
She sighs as I lightly lick the tender skin behind her ear. “I think that might be acceptable—yes.”
“Wonderful. How about next weekend? I know of a bouncy castle going up for an eight-year-old’s birthday.” I slant my mouth over hers before she has time to give me any sharp retorts, and she matches me kiss for kiss. Her tongue slides against mine, and her hands scale up my back. I’m shaking from how much I’m holding back. How much I want to peel her clothes from her body and consume her completely. It would be so good. We would be so good together.
But Annie’s not mine.
So I ease up and somehow manage to pull away from her—taking in her sad expression when I do. I kiss her cheek and her temple and her forehead. “I should go.”
Annie nods and sits up with me, following me out of her room and standing in the open front door as I walk out. Before I go, I can’t help but look back at her one more time. “Have fun on your date, Annie.” I pause. “Maybe he can take you out for some chicken nuggets afterward.”
She groans and rolls her eyes. “Shutting the door now!”
“Do you want to borrow a dollar for a soda in case he forgets his Velcro wallet?”
Bam!
CHAPTER THIRTY
Annie
“Thanks for agreeing to come with me to my nephew’s game,” says Brandon. He’s sitting beside me on one of the metal bleachers that (as predicted by Will) is so hot it’s burning through the denim of my overalls. “I know it’s not normal, but…” He laughs and shrugs good-naturedly. “Well, honestly, this will be very normal for me now that I’m back. I plan on being more involved with my family than I have been in the past.”
Ten points in the family-man box.
“I think it’s great. Are any of your other family members coming?” I ask, thankful my cold medicine is working and my nose doesn’t sound like Mr. Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street anymore.
“No one other than my brother, Rob,” he says, pointing toward the middle-aged man standing on the field with his hands on his hips. “He coaches the team. And then my sister-in-law would normally be here, too, but she just had their baby two weeks ago, so she’s staying home today.”
Right. The one he bought flowers for. It seems like this guy is thoughtful in a big way. All the points for that.
“Do you have any other siblings in town?” I ask, while discreetly admiring his well-groomed beard and dark brown eyes. He’s also wearing a team T-shirt, Little Grizzlies, and I find it incredibly endearing.
Brandon has comfy vibes written all over him. Potential dad vibes. Just like Emily and Madison told me I needed.
“Nah—it’s just me and my brother. But our parents live in town too.”
Wow. Another check mark. He has parents in his life. Which means I could have parents in my life, too, if we work out.
“I bet they are excited to have another grandchild,” I say, feeling super proud of my small talk abilities today. This date is already proving completely different from my last one. I guess all the time I’ve been spending with Will has paid off. It’s not even that we practiced specific things about dating all that much. It’s more that I’ve learned over the last few weeks with him to trust myself and what I have to offer. He’s been a safe place for me to…
Ugh! No, Annie, stop thinking about Will!
Brandon laughs a nice low laugh. “Oh, they are. And they’re very eager for me to start adding some to the list as well. Which, I don’t mind because I’m eager to start a family too,” he says with an easy smile while looking out over the field. Not at all embarrassed that he just implied we’d get right to baby making if we work out. Funny how men can get away with saying things like that on a date and it’s endearing, but when I did, I got left ten minutes into the date.
I suddenly jump when Brandon claps and yells, “Let’s go, Hunter!”
He turns his face to me, and his smile only widens. It’s such a nice smile I wait for my stomach to flip. Go on, stomach, flip. Fine, a little roll then? Can I at least get a flutter? Listen…I’d settle for a twitch.
Nothing. Dang it.
Oh, well. Not a problem. Long-term loving relationships are built on more than just flutters and stomach flips anyway, right? So even if I don’t feel them now, it’s totally fine. Tons of time for flipping later down the road. What I’m looking for is a partner. Not a roller coaster.
If only I hadn’t just experienced a big stomach flip this morning, maybe this would be easier. Not only did Will make out with me until my bones felt like mush, but…he told me he has feelings for me. Feelings. And I told him that I have feelings for him. And now here I am on a date with someone else. It feels so wrong and backward and upside down. When two people declare their feelings, they get together, right?! That’s how it happens. But of course I would fall for a man who doesn’t believe in marriage. Who doesn’t want a family. Who wants to remain as wild and free as a bird.
I knew I’d get feelings for him from the beginning, though, didn’t I? I think something in me has known I was capable of loving him since the second I laid eyes on him.
But I would never in my wildest dreams want to try to change Will, and he doesn’t want to try to change me. Neither one of us wants to ask the other to sacrifice anything. So our only options are to move on.
Digging into my mind for dating advice from He Who Shall Not Be Thought Of, I pull out a piece of memorized conversation. “So, Brandon…would you rather skydive or read a book?”
“Oh—good question.” He makes a thinking noise and narrows one eye. “Read a book.”
Ding, ding, ding. Right answer! See stomach? This guy just keeps getting better and better.
I angle excitedly toward him. “Me too! I love to read. What’s your favorite genre?”
“Pretty much anything,” he says, and then adds, “Well, not true. Anything besides romance.”
Oh no.
I chuckle lightly to cover my despair. “Why not romance?”
He gives me a come-on look. “Because the whole genre just seems messed up. First, it sets unrealistic standards that no one can obtain, and, second, it’s just…fluff. I’d rather read something that actually has substance, you know?”
Cue my internal crisis:
He hates romance.
But he loves his family!
But he just belittled an entire genre that I adore by calling it fluff.
But I’ve hidden my romance-loving ways for my entire adult life. What are a few more years?
Will’s voice adds to the chaos in my head from when he read the romance book I gave him. It was sexy as hell. And there were a lot of profound moments too. Felt like free therapy. Ugh. That’s not fair, though. I shouldn’t compare Brandon and Will. They’re two completely different men. As in…Brandon is turning out nothing like Will.
However, that thought is irrelevant because Will is leaving, and he doesn’t plan to look back.
“What about you?” he asks. “What kind of books do you like to read?”
The sun seems to grow eight times hotter, if that’s even possible. If you listen closely you can hear the sound of my sweat dripping down the back of my neck. “Oh, me? Well…I actually—”
