Dating in the Dark (Dating Trilogy Book 1)

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Dating in the Dark (Dating Trilogy Book 1) Page 4

by Alexandria Bishop


  “Perfect, now that you’re all seated, the waiters are going to file into the room and take your drink orders. Once you’re all set, we’ll get started.”

  Surprisingly, the whole drink ordering and delivery process takes a lot less time than Tinley expected. Each table has their own waiter assigned to them, so it runs rather smoothly. Maybe this whole night won’t be so bad after all.

  “Okay ladies, we’re going to go grab the guys and let the fun begin. Just remember, we’re keeping this one hundred percent confidential, so on top of not being able to see each other, no sharing names either, okay? Okay, well you all have fun! Happy dating.” Then the lights are cut, and Tinley is surrounded by nothing but darkness.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter 6

  The fact that they’re in a pitch-black room is supposed to add to the mystery, but for Tinley, all it does is make the situation that much more unnerving. The creaking of a door being opened somewhere only adds to her unease. Any minute now, one of those guys will be sitting in the chair across from her, and the weight of dread in the pit of her stomach intensifies. As the sound of many feet shuffles into the room, she slides her hand across the cold metal of the tabletop in front of her. Luckily, they provided them with drinks ahead of time, but now she’s questioning her choice of getting a glass of wine instead of a cocktail. The extra alcohol content might have helped her nerves a little bit more.

  Nevertheless, she takes a small sip and then another. The tart apples and crisp pears dance together on her tongue and slide effortlessly down her throat. She’s had a lot of wine in her life, but this one is exceptionally refreshing. If the wine is any indication, she’s about ready to enjoy a pretty fantastic meal. Not judging at all on the dates. But who knows, maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

  The familiar sound of a wooden chair scraping against concrete perks her ears up as her first date takes his seat at the table. She was so wrapped up in the wine, she didn’t even notice that some of the dates at the tables around her had already started. Way to pay attention, Tinley.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” asks the voice from across the table at an obnoxiously loud level. Maybe it’s the disorientation of being in the dark and not realizing that even though they can’t see each other, she can hear him just fine.

  Tinley laughs and replies to the stranger at a much lower volume, “Oh, you know, not much at all. This is—”

  She jumps as the entire table shakes with what she can only assume is his hand slamming down on it. “Obviously I don’t know, or I wouldn’t ask. Why do women always insist on expecting us to be mind readers? You could just tell us what you want, and then we would know.”

  Is this guy for real right now?

  She doesn’t have a chance to contemplate that for long because the waiter stops by their table with their first course. “I hope you’re both enjoying your evening so far.” There’s a brief pause, and she knows he’s waiting for an answer, but neither one of them speak up. “Okay, well, I’ve brought your first course for the evening. It’s a crusted—”

  “Just leave the food so we can get on with it. I don’t need to know every single detail about the food going into my mouth. If you guys fucked it up, I can just get a refund.”

  Man, this guy has some serious anger issues. Makes her wonder why he even came to this event in the first place. Maybe he got roped into it like she did, but she’d be surprised if anyone were able to convince this guy to do anything. He seriously seems like a major dick with a capital D. Must be trying to compensate for the lack of down south.

  The plate is placed before her and her mouth waters at the scents trickling up to her nose. Silverware clatters against the plates around the small room, and audible moans and groans travel throughout.

  “Enjoy your meal,” the waiter adds before quickly walking away. Yeah buddy, I’d be going along with you right now if I could.

  The cold metal of the fork meets her hand as Tinley picks it up and takes a bite of her food. The flavors explode on impact, and the crab melts on her tongue. The combination of the sip of wine she just tasted and the crab salad work perfectly together, and she’s glad she decided to go with the Pinot Grigio after all.

  She welcomes the silence as they both dig into their food. It’s only after the chatter around them alarms her to the wasted date she’s currently on that she opens her mouth to attempt to salvage the date by asking what he thought of the dish, but before she even has a chance to get a word out, his rant starts right back up again. “Do you know how much easier all this dating bullshit would be if everyone was honest with each other? I mean seriously, what’s with the games? I don’t need another tease making me buy her a bunch of drinks when I get dick in return. Like, what the fuck? This shit is getting old.”

  Tease making him buy her a bunch of drinks? What is this dude even talking about? He’s not paying for any of her meal. Somebody has definitely burned this guy a time or two before. He’s harboring way too much anger and just throwing it at a stranger. Maybe since he can’t actually see her, he doesn’t care about what he’s saying? She continues working her way through her salad and enjoys every last bite of it.

  As she clears her plate and wipes off her mouth, she takes another sip of wine and gathers her thoughts. “I have no idea what your deal is or why you’re even here since you’re so clearly not enjoying it, but I’d appreciate if you would calm yourself down. This is unnecessary.”

  “Oh, the princess is going to have a fit. Well, sorry to break it to you bitch, but I’m not your knight in shining armor. No one is here to save you right now. And if you came here searching for a fucking prince, then you’re even more pathetic than I gave you credit for.”

  Tinley opens her mouth to tell him off but is saved by the ringing of the bell. She breathes a tiny sigh of relief that things didn’t escalate further. She was a little worried about the direction that date was taking. Date one down, three more to go. It can’t really get any worse than this one, can it?

  Chapter 7

  The crackling of a speaker spreads around the room as the same woman from earlier talks over a PA system. “Okay everyone, your first dates are done. Guys, please get up and move to the next chair on your right. Once everyone is seated, your waiters will come by to remove the first course plates and serve the second course.”

  Tinley lets out an internal sigh of relief. Her “date” gets up from the table without another word, and she’s very grateful that he’s someone else’s problem for the next fifteen minutes. That’s awful of her to think, but at least he’s out of her hair for the time being. Now on to the next date. If anything, she just hopes it doesn’t get any worse. She doesn’t have high hopes for a spectacular date, but someone who doesn’t spend the next fifteen minutes screaming at her would be nice.

  The clattering of dishes alerts her to the fact that the waiter is back at her table. The polite thing to do would be to thank him for clearing everything away, but she obviously can’t see anything and wouldn’t even know which direction she should be facing.

  “Here, I brought you a refill. I thought you might need one after that last guy.”

  She jumps slightly at the closeness of the voice. She had no idea the waiter was still at her table, but she did, in fact, finish off her last glass before the end of that debacle. “Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Hope your next one isn’t as bad.” With that, she hears the familiar shuffling as he walks away.

  That’s precisely what she’s hoping for as well. At this point, if she makes it through the night unscathed, she’ll consider it a success. How pathetic is that? And even though she didn’t even want to come to this thing, she had a tiny morsel of hope that she would find a decent guy. She doesn’t need a man to define her, but having some companionship of the male variety would be nice for a change.

  The chair across from her scrapes on the floor again, and Tinley doesn’t even let this guy sit down before l
aying into him. “Before we even get started, I need to know if you’re in need of anger management or if you’ve ever been arrested for assault.”

  A deep chuckle travels across the table to her and he asks, “Can’t say that I have. Bad breakup or something?”

  She contemplates that for half a second. She’s been with a lot of assholes in her life, but none of them have been outright violent or scary. And she’s definitely never dated anyone who had a record.

  “Nope. The first guy went psycho on me. I was a little afraid he might flip the table or something.”

  There’s a long pause, and she’s almost tempted to ask him if he’s still there…although if he isn’t there, she wouldn’t really be asking him, but an empty chair. An empty chair could be better than her current date; jury’s still out on that one. Ugh. She’s getting a little too introspective tonight; might need to start pacing herself on the wine, at least until more food arrives.

  “Seriously? That’s intense.”

  “Right? Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here right now.”

  He doesn’t miss a beat as he whips right back at her, “Then why are you here?”

  “My sister and roommate signed me up. They kind of forced me to come, so here I am.”

  Their conversation is interrupted as the waiter comes by with the second course. After that salad, she’s hoping the yummy food keeps on coming.

  “And now I have your second course for the evening. On your plate, you’ll find a trio of stuffed mushrooms. The first one is filled with a seafood combination of oysters and scallops, the second one has an Italian sausage filling, and finally, the third has a variety of cheeses inside.”

  Tinley’s mouth starts salivating as her plate is placed in front of her. Cheese is one of her many weaknesses, and the air around her is filling with the smell of the melted goodness. She’s dying to dig right in.

  “Nah bro, you can take mine away. I don’t eat anything that comes from the ocean. You can’t trust that stuff.”

  Not a seafood fan? This guy just lost points in Tinley’s book for that response. She might be a food lover in general, hence the extra fifty pounds, but seafood is like heaven in food form. If it wasn’t so damn expensive, she’d eat sushi for dinner every night.

  “Not a problem sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “Yeah, dude. Can you refill my Bud? That would be most excellent.”

  “Of course. And for you, miss?”

  “I’m good, thank you,” Tinley replies, and she can just imagine the amusement her waiter is having this evening. Her dates aren’t living up to any kind of potential, but at least she’s providing some entertainment for the staff.

  He jumps right back into the conversation like they were never interrupted. “Are they hot?”

  “Um, excuse me?” Tinley asks as she coughs into her napkin.

  “Are they hot? You know, we could take this party back to your place and have a little fun of the naked variety, if you know what I mean.”

  She imagines the dude winking with that last comment. Who even asks something like that? “I’m not an idiot, so of course I know what you mean, but what part of that sounded like a good idea when it came out of your mouth?”

  “All of it?”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one. Why does that matter?”

  “I’m not sure what kind of porn fantasy you’re trying to create here, but not now and not ever will I get naked and do anything sexual with my sister or my roommate.”

  “Whoa babe, cool your jets. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Tinley is once again saved by the ringing bell. She was about five seconds away from jumping over the table and throttling his neck. Don’t they do any kind of vetting on these people? Where are the normal guys at? Oh, that’s right, all the good ones her age are married and have kids. They’re at home with their families right now while Tinley is polishing off yet another glass of wine in the dark. At this rate, she’ll have to take a taxi home.

  She places her glass back down on the table and thinks, Bring on the next one.

  Chapter 8

  Tinley jumps as a voice speaks to her from across the table. She didn’t even hear the chair move or her new date sit down.

  “Do you have a hand I can shake? I promise not to bite you. I’m not a vampire, so I’m not into that kind of thing.”

  That’s not the kind of response she was expecting in the least. Maybe this date will be a little fun after all. Playing along, she reaches her hand across the table, feeling for his. “Not a vampire, huh? That’s too bad—I hear that can be kind of hot.”

  Just as their fingertips touch, he rips his hand away from hers and exclaims, “Oh no! Not in the slightest. It’s very dangerous. I almost lost a friend to a vampire once. I was able to give him a blood transfusion and he survived, though just barely. It’s the females you need to worry about. They’re brutal.”

  What the fuck? Do normal people not come to this kind of thing? Of course not, Tinley. Who in their right mind would willingly go to something called Dating in the Dark? The answer is nobody would, and she’s stuck here with those nobodies for at least another thirty minutes.

  All communication stops as the waiter brings by their main course. She doesn’t pay attention to a word he says about what they’re eating because her mind can’t get off the fact that this guy thinks vampires are real. Of course, she’s wondered what life would be like if supernatural creatures were real and that world would have to include Dean and Sam, but she’s never for one minute thought that was reality. They’re just made-up stories.

  “So, what species are you?”

  She chokes as she takes a small sip of her wine. Maybe she needs to switch to water and stop drinking the wine because she obviously heard him wrong. Species—what kind of question is that? She clears her throat after a few too many coughs and croaks out, “Um, human?”

  “Hm…a humanoid…how…predictable.” He takes long pauses in between his words and drags them all out. It almost sounds like he’s having trouble breathing, but maybe that’s just how he talks? He’s either longwinded or only speaks in staccato.

  Predictable? What part of any of this is predictable? It’s hard to imagine that anything would shock this guy at this point. “I’m sorry?”

  “No need to be sorry—you can’t change what you are. I shouldn’t have expected much coming to this thing, but you’re my third date and only humanoids so far. I think I’m going about this whole dating thing the wrong way. I just don’t know where to meet other people, you know?”

  At this point, the only obvious conclusion is that she needs to humor this guy; at least then she’ll have a good story to tell her sister and Dakota. They’ll never believe she went on a date with a guy who thinks he’s an alien. “So, if you aren’t a human, what are you?”

  “My people…call themselves…the Vikkulas. I come from…the planet…Eplora.”

  Wow, this guy is actually serious. Like full-blown believes every word that he’s saying kind of crazy. “I’ve never heard of that before. Is it far away? How did you get here?”

  “Well…if I told you…any of that…I’d have to…kill you. Then they’d know…I was here.”

  She starts to laugh, but he interrupts her.

  “I’m serious. You can’t tell anyone what I’ve told you. If anyone found out, it would be dangerous for both of us. The consequences would be dire, and my whole planet and race would be at risk.”

  “Then why did you just tell me all that? We don’t even know each other.”

  The bell rings signaling the end of their date, and Tinley is almost sad to see this one go. He’s batshit crazy, that’s for sure, but the story he was telling was just so fascinating, and she could tell he believed every word coming out of his mouth. How else do you explain someone who has a species and planet name at the ready? Maybe he’s a writer or an actor and was testing out a storyline? Either way, she could never be that
creative.

  As the guys get up and start shuffling around the room again, her friend the waiter stops by to clear their dinner plates, and she only just now realizes she didn’t even touch a bite of whatever was on there. So much for that. “So, how did date number three go?”

  “Alien.”

  There’s a long pause as he stops clearing away the dishes and coughs. “Come again?”

  That is the normal reaction to this situation: complete and utter shock mixed with some confusion. She almost wishes she could follow him around to all of his dates and hear their reactions. It’s not every day you go on a date with an alien. Now that would be some entertainment right there.

  “The guy thought he was an alien, gave me this whole spiel about keeping his secret because the government would come after him and me. Where do these people even come from?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Who knows, maybe the next guy will be a winner, or maybe you’ll consider letting me take you out sometime.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, but no offense, I don’t think I want to see anyone from tonight a second time. This whole night has been a giant disaster.”

  “Hey, I get it, but sometimes you just need to find a silver lining. So, in case you change your mind, I’m leaving a napkin here with my phone number on it. No pressure.”

  He walks away and she feels around the table for the napkin. After a split-second decision, she shoves it into her purse. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a wild hair and decide to text the guy. More than likely it’ll end up in the trash as soon as she gets home, but it doesn’t hurt to take it just in case she changes her mind, and now she’s ready for her last date of the evening.

  Bring it on.

  Chapter 9

  As the seconds tick by, Tinley contemplates her current predicament. She could get up now and not sit through another atrocious date, or she could finish the evening, gain another five pounds from the chocolate concoction sitting in front of her, suffer through the last date, and be done with it. She weighs the pros and cons of her choice for far too long and the chair across from her scrapes along the floor. The hairs on the back of her neck go up and she cringes while feeling around the table for her fork. Might as well dig in while she’s still got the chance. Who knows what kind of disaster is in store. She takes a giant bite of the chocolate lava brownie and it immediately melts on her tongue. The combination of cookie dough chunks mixed in with the rich molten syrup flowing down over the dessert is enough to put her in a sugar coma.

 

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