Page 38 of About That Night

I nod. “Dinner at Boudreaux’s.”

“Fancy. Go for it. A little risky to be trapped in a long dinner, but why not, right?”

“I think I will. He seems very normal.” We go through all of my matches. Hank suggests I go out with nine of the twelve. He only rejects the one he deems too young and the one who doesn’t currently have a job.

“He says he’s in school,” I protest, though I don’t even know why. I don’t even like a few of the things he said in his profile. I only swiped on him in the first flush of dating app excitement and trying to be open-minded.

But Hank is so casual and nonchalant about me dating ten guys that I figure, why not talk to all twelve? Not that I have time to date twelve guys, but I can start out slow.

“You don’t need some guy saddled with student loan debt.”

“You don’t know he has debt.”

“Just skip him. You have other options.”

This is not as fun as going through profiles with Nevaeh. “We’ll see. I guess I’m officially dating.”

“Good. I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you. I’m a little nervous, but I’m ready.” I am. I want a full life where I’m not just living to work. I can be a better mom if I’m meeting new people and making connections here in town. At the very least, I’ll make some friends.

“Feel the fear and do it anyway.” Hank gives me a smile.

It feels like he’s put me firmly in the friend zone. Which is what I asked him to do. Only now I’m not sure why he’s pulled back so hard. Except that he said he doesn’t have time for a relationship.

“I want you to be happy too, Hank.”

“I am happy. Now let’s get out of here. It smells like regret, which is my least favorite word in the English language. I can’t wait until all the construction is done. I’m giving this place a second chance.”

That word makes me think.

Regret.

I don’t want to have any regrets anymore. “Second chances are good.”

It makes me realize I need to stop avoiding my parents. Time to lay old regrets to rest.

We go back into the main courthouse. He points out the old offices that are already mid-conversion to a commercial kitchen.

When he drives me home, he asks me, “Does this mean we’re done with our incredibly brief but completely not-sordid fake relationship? You’ve officially dumped me?”

“I guess so, right? You’ve given me confidence that I can do this.” I should be excited, but I feel a little melancholy. I realize maybe I was still harboring my old crush more than I realized.

Which wasn’t fair to Hank. The friend zone is the right move for both of us, even if it feels a little…deflating.

“You didn’t need me to give you anything. You already had it,” he tells me emphatically.

We’re in the cab of his parked truck outside my house, the air conditioning on low.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he murmurs. “You’re killing me, Chastity. Just say it. What we’re both thinking.”

He reaches out and shifts a stray hair off of my cheek. He follows the movement with his gaze. His pale blue eyes are filled with desire.

“How am I looking at you?” I whisper.

Do it, I tell myself. Tell him you want to date him.

But my lips are glued shut. Because I can’t jerk Hank around anymore than I already have.

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