by Marta Brown
“Oh, yeah. It’s actually with Brad Garrison. You know, from Garrison and Sons?” I plaster on a confident smile, practicing for tonight. “Oliver was a good sport yesterday taking me on a mock date and all. But he says I’m good, so…” I trail off, trying to shove away Oliver’s words after he kissed me. “I think the date tonight should go—”
“Good?” Big Pop shakes his head, smiling. “I sure hope that kid knows what he’s doing.”
“Brad?” I ask, furrowing my brows.
“Sure, honey,” Pop says, leaning over and kissing the top of my head with a chuckle. “Have a good time.”
…
Glancing at the clock just above the oven in my grandparent’s tropical-themed kitchen, it feels like it’s definitely running on island time. Extra slow.
I click down the hall to help release the nervous energy that’s been building since seven—when Brad said he’d pick me up. It’s now half past eight.
Is this what Jessica and her friends mean when they say casually late? If so, there is nothing casual about it. It’s just plain late. I stuff my growing annoyance down and remind myself to relax like Jessica would. And in this dress, even I can admit our resemblance.
Now if only I could channel her carefree approach to life—or at least her carefree attitude to timeframes—tonight might not be a total wash.
That is if I didn’t just get stood up.
A few minutes later, the sound of a car pulling up to the curb in front of the house sends a wave of relief across my shoulders and down my back. He’s here. And suddenly, the hour and a half delay isn’t such a big deal. I’m just glad he showed up at all.
I check the mirror one last time and smile back at my reflection. I’m starting to get pretty good at doing my own makeup and hair, and the dress is definitely date worthy. It’s red, short, and exactly what my sister would wear on a first date with a guy like Brad.
The blare of a car horn makes me jump.
“What is all that racket?” Big Pop bellows when the horn blares again.
Scrambling, I rush to the living room. “Sorry, it’s Brad. I better go. Love you both,” I say, blowing them a kiss before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.
Here goes nothing.
With a deep breath, I put on a smile to hide my uncertainty about how this whole thing works, since I’ve never actually read about a guy honking to pick a girl up for a date before. But then again, a thousand books and one fake date with Oliver later isn’t going to teach me everything there is to know about dating. And Brad seems like the kind of guy who knows what he’s doing.
I’m careful not to stumble in the highest pair of heels I’ve worn from Jessica’s massive collection, and a loud whistle rings out of the open passenger side window as I walk down the pathway to Brad’s car. A blush rushes to my cheeks.
“Wow, you look smoking,” Brad says, wearing a confident smirk and what looks to be a pair of board shorts and a neon green tank top.
Feeling more than a little overdressed, I consider telling him I just got back from some important meeting or event and I need to change, but decide there’s no way I could come up with a plausible story or another outfit. This one took over an hour to choose.
What am I going to do?
Or better yet… what would Jessica do?
It doesn’t take long for the answer to hit me, since Jessica is always doling out handy life lessons I passively ignore. Thank goodness this one stuck. ‘Always be the best dressed in the room.’
“Oh, thanks,” I say with fake bravado when I open the door to his jeep and climb in. “I figured this old thing would work no matter what we’re doing.”
“Nice. I like my girls ready for whatever.” Brad rakes his eyes over my legs before shifting into gear and pealing out of the neighborhood. “So, Kate, you hungry?”
With the wind whipping in my hair as we fly down Duvall Street, I lean in to hear him better because it sounded like he called me Kate. “Sorry, it’s kind of hard to hear, what did you say?”
Instead of speaking, he pantomimes eating and then winks when he sees I understand.
Giving him an enthusiastic nod since I’m starving, I sit back and settle into the silence of the drive. Glad it’s too loud to talk so I don’t feel forced to make small talk in the meantime.
After a few quiet minutes, Brad turns off the boulevard, zips into a parking lot, and parks his car between a fancy Italian restaurant and the neighboring building. I can’t help but smile at his choice. Is Italian a first date prerequisite or something?
Guess this is just another detail left out of romance novels—but either way—it’s a good thing I like pasta.
“So, what do you want?” Brad asks, resting one hand casually on his steering wheel while digging in the middle console for what I assume is his wallet with the other.
I furrow my brows? What do I want?
I peek out the windshield, expecting to see a menu posted outside the restaurant so I can answer, when he cocks his head towards the back of the open air jeep and to the brightly lit Taco Bell behind us.
“Oh…” Taco Bell?
“Never mind, I’ll just grab one of everything, and we’ll have a picnic.” He waves his hand in the air dismissively before throwing open his door and hopping out. “Be right back.”
My nod this time is a little less enthusiastic, but the wink he gives me before going to get us food makes me shut the voice down in my head. It’s the thought that counts. And it’s not that much different from what Ollie did. Right?
“So, where are we picnicking?” I ask after Brad drops three huge bags of food into the backseat almost ten minutes later. Hopefully somewhere with a picnic table, because sitting on the ground in this dress isn’t going to be easy.
Brad reaches across the console and puts his hand on my knee, the bold action taking me by surprise. “I was thinking my place. You down?”
Am. I. Down?
Staring at Brad’s charming smile as the scent of pinto beans and ground beef wafts up between us, I definitely feel down.
Upside down to be exact, because if what Ollie and I did yesterday was considered a date, what in the hell is this?
Chapter 18
Oliver
Pacing my room for the thousandth time, I make one more lap before I flop down on my bed and stare at the popcorn ceiling, a million questions running a marathon in my brain.
Is she already out with him?
What are they doing?
Is she having a good time?
Where did he take her?
Has he kissed her yet?
And worse, did she like it?
Sitting up, I run my hands through my hair, feeling like both my head and my heart might explode at any second, when the fact is, there’s only one answer I’m truly desperate to know.
Is it possible she’s thinking about me?
Because I can’t stop thinking about her.
Chapter 19
Katie
If I thought this date had me turned upside down before, I might as well be one of Ollie’s kite’s flipping wildly in the air without a sense of control or direction.
Because now, as I sit on Brad’s couch with the bitchy cell phone girl from the Griddle next to me while Brad and his brother shove tacos in their mouths and play some shoot ‘em up game, I’m fully upside down, inside out, and completely turned around.
“There’s one more soft taco left,” Brad says around a mouth full of beans and rice, still somehow managing to look hot, despite his lack of manners and his lack of date planning. “It’s yours if you want it.”
I shake my head no, but offer him a small smile as thanks anyway.
“Damn, man. You beat my ass again. I’m out,” Trevor says, tossing the controller to the coffee table covered in kite boarding, surfing, and boating magazines with a loud clang. “Lace and I are going to Sloppy Joe’s to grab some drinks. You guys wanna come?”
Brad lifts his brows and the corners of his
lips at the invitation. “Yeah, sure. Let me grab a quick shower and then we’ll bounce.”
Before I can remind Brad I’m underage, he tosses his controller to the couch with a muted thud, slips off his T-shirt, and disappears. Seconds later, the sound of running water echoes down the hall and is almost as loud as the black leather couch when I shift uncomfortably after Trevor takes off too, leaving Lacy and me alone.
“So…” I start, trying to fill the weird silence left by the sudden departure of both guys. “You and Trevor make a cute couple. How long have you been together?”
“Ugh. Try never.” Lacy shoots me what Jessica likes to call side eye. “We’re just best friends. And no—not the kind with benefits.”
Oh. Okay. “Sorry.” I bite my lip, hoping I didn’t offend her, even though I can’t imagine why she would be. Trevor is hot, and it was an honest mistake. It even happens to Ollie and me sometimes. “I guess I just figured since I always see you guys together, but I get it. My best friend’s a guy, too.”
“Whatever.” Lacy rolls her eyes. “Everyone thinks it. But I’m not looking to be just another notch in one of the Garrison’s belts.” She looks me over, and then softens her mouth. “No offense.”
Another notch in the Garrison’s belt? Not just Trevor’s? I feel my eyes go wide as I choke on her words. How many notches should I worry Brad’s belt might have… specifically?
And trust me. I’ve taken offense. “I’m not looking to be just another—”
“But then again,” Lacy interrupts with a wicked grin, “if I had a BFF as smoking as that little hottie who’s always following you around like a lovesick puppy—friends with benefits would definitely be on the table. And under it. And against it…”
“Found it!” Trevor shouts, holding up his wallet like he’s discovered some long-lost treasure before I can muster up a response. Although I’m halfway thankful since I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to respond to that anyway. Other than screaming, “Hell no, you’re not getting anywhere near my best friend.” Which is what I want to say.
“You ladies ready?”
Lacy crosses her arms and sighs. “For like an hour.”
“Well, let’s do this then,” Brad says as he steps out of the bathroom dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. He looks much more date like than before. Too bad we won’t be able to go.
“It’s about damn time.” Trevor tosses Brad a set of keys before slinging his arm over Lacy’s shoulder. “You’re driving, bro.”
“Uh… Brad,” I say, almost under my breath as I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear nervously. “I’m not actually twenty-one yet.”
Lacy throws me another look, but this one has way less side eye and much more incredulity. “Obviously. I’m not either,” she says, pulling out her ID and handing it to me. “You seriously don’t have a fake?” She slips out another ID from her purse and waves it in the air. “You can get’em in Miami easy.”
“Oh… thanks for letting me know,” I say as all three of them look at me like I’m about to ruin everything. “Maybe I’ll see if Oliver can take me tomorrow.”
“Oliver’s his name, huh? Cute.” Lacy takes her real ID back from me and slides it into her purse with a devilish smile. “Make sure he picks up a new belt—or two—while you’re there, because if I have anything to do with it… he’s gonna need extras.” She laughs, like we’re sharing an inside joke, but there’s nothing funny about the unexpected surge of jealousy that floods my body and knocks my breath away.
“Subtle, Lacy.” Trevor laughs, but there doesn’t seem to be any real humor behind it as Brad tosses him back the set of keys. “But seriously, that sucks, Kate.”
“Seriously,” Brad echoes, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking clearly annoyed. “But maybe I’ll swing by later if I can.”
“No. You should go,” I blurt out, wishing I was already home, in my pajamas, and eating ice cream… or maybe gelato. “I’ll probably have a DP session in the morning, and then work, so I better get home anyway. So, go. Have fun.”
Smiling, Brad throws his arm over my shoulder and pulls me into his side. “See? I knew I liked you. We should definitely go on a real date this week. Sound good?”
A real date? Isn’t that what this is supposed to be?
Or was this just for practice, too?
I furrow my brows. That’s it. Maybe this was Brad’s version of a practice date—or at least a pre-date date. Kind of like the pre-interview’s Big Pop’s been doing over the phone with potential new chefs. Feeling them out to see if they’d be a good fit for the Griddle or not.
Finally understanding why tonight’s been so… off, I soften my face and smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Cool,” he says, snatching the keys from his brother’s hand and shooting me a crooked smile. “Then it’s a date.”
…
“Oh, Katie,” Grandma says when I walk through the front door and let my heels fall to the ground with a thump. My feet are slowly getting used to the tortuous footwear. “You’re home early. Did everything go all right?” Concern etches tiny lines around her eyes and mouth. “Wanna talk about it?”
Do I want to talk about my second non-date date in as many days? Not really.
Faking a deep yawn, I motion up the stairs with my chin as I stretch my arms high above my head. “No. No. Everything is good. I’m just tired,” I say, waving off her concern with a smile. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.” When I’ve come up with something better to say than ‘It was a total disaster… but maybe second time’s the charm?’ n
“Of course, dear, but…” she gives me a knowing smile, “just in case you did want to talk about it, I have someone here who has been dying to talk to you all night.”
Midstep, I freeze. Is Ollie here?
Equal amounts of relief and worry flood my system simultaneously. Relief that our kiss last night doesn’t seem to have changed anything on his end, and worry because a part of me wishes it had.
I peer over the railing and into the living room, expecting to see my best friend, but instead see Grandma waving her iPhone in the air with Jessica’s smiling face on the tiny screen.
“Miss me?” Jess asks as I fly down the stairs with a squeal.
“You have no idea,” I say, motioning up the stairs with my chin to make sure it’s okay I steal the phone so Jess and I can talk in private. Grandma waves me away with a smile and a laugh.
Rushing to my room, I shut the door behind me with a quiet click before hopping on the bed and making myself comfortable. “Okay, first off,” I say, taking in the neon-green walls behind my sister, “how are you Face-Timing right now? Mom said you couldn’t because the boat’s Internet was too slow. Wait, does this mean you’re back? Oh, thank goodness. I have so much to tell you. But first things first… are my books okay?”
“Take a breath, woman. Your books are fine,” Jessica says with a laugh, her smile brighter than my favorite blue T-shirt with the owl reading a book on it that she’s wearing. “We’re just at port for the night, somewhere in Belize, so I found an Internet café that wasn’t too expensive and thought I’d check in and see how mad at me you are.”
Mad? Why would I be—?
Jessica pinches the fabric of her T-shirt—well, technically my shirt—and gives it a small snap.
Oh. That.
If I wasn’t holding the phone out so she can see me, I’d cross my arms and lay it on thick, but so much has happened since our suitcases were switched, I can’t even muster up fake anger. Mistakes happen. Like kissing Ollie. And thinking tonight was going to be a real date with Brad.
“I’m madder that you’re going to be gone another week than I am about the clothes, because I could use some sisterly advice right about now, but…” I say, angling the phone so she gets a better shot of me in her dress. “I do think I’m starting to get use to my new look… what’da think?”
Jessica’s jaw drops open. “Whoa! You look amazing in
that dress. Consider it yours.”
“Thanks.” I smile as I glance at the beautiful blue dress I wore last night. “But I might want a different one if you’re offering.”
“Okay, spill. You have a seriously goofy smile on your face and you’ve worn more than one of my dresses? I figured you’d wear one of Grandma’s muumuus before you wore anything of mine.”
I arch my brow at my sister’s fresh face and casual outfit. “Actually, it looks like we both have some explaining to do, because I figured you’d rather go naked than suffer through wearing any of my boring, old clothes.”
“Who says I haven’t been? Naked, I mean.”
“Jessica,” I exclaim, falling back into the pile of pillows propped against the headboard.
“Kidding, kidding.” Jessica laughs. “The only thing I’ve been keeping naked is my face. I can’t tell you how nice it feels to go makeup free for a week.”
Despite the grainy quality of the connection, I can see she’s telling the truth. Her face is sun kissed and glowing. “Okay… I’m not the only one with a goofy grin… What’s up?”
“Blame the margaritas,” Jess says dismissively about her smile, but I’m not so sure. Unless margaritas make you blush.
“Suuuure,” I tease. “What’s his name?”
If it were possible to feel heat through the screen, my hand would be scorched at how fast and hot her cheeks flare.
“So there is a guy.”
“Oooooh, no. We are not talking about me right now. Grandma said you were out on a date and I want the deets. Like now.”
Oh. Yeah. Brad.
“Well… it wasn’t really a date-date.” I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to explain tonight, since I’m still not completely sure I’m clear on exactly what tonight was. “It was more like a practice pre-date type thing, but we do have an official date tomorrow, so that’s good.”
Jessica sits back in a bright yellow plastic chair with a smug look on her face. “It’s about damn time you two finally went out. So… spill. Is Oliver a good kisser? Tell me everything.”