Page 38 of Betting on Lizzie

“You’re right,” Lizzie said, sipping her beer. “It’s delightful.”

Was that sarcasm? Was she making fun of him? Doubts piled up. Lizzie was out of his league. In the game of dating, she was an all-star, and he was just warming up after being on the bench for several seasons. He’d been a fool to think he could handle her.

“Um, do you want something to eat?” he asked, nodding to the menus sticking out of the ketchup rack.

“Not unless you do,” she said. “This beer will fill me up.”

Oh, man. He would pay good money to read her mind right now. She was so succinct and stoic that he couldn’t tell if she was having fun or not. Did she not want dinner because she wasn’t hungry? Or because that would add another forty minutes to their time together? Could the evening possibly be as disastrous as he was imagining?

Just as he was about to throw in the towel and suggest they call it a night, a slow country ballad came on the jukebox, and she perked up. “I love this song. You wanna dance?”

Ben tried to hide his surprise at the unexpected invitation. Surprise quickly morphed into panic. It had been ages since he’d danced. He shot the last of his drink for some liquid courage, stood, and held out a hand. She slid out of the booth and into his arms. Her head came to his shoulders, and though she was much shorter than him, she seemed to fit perfectly.

They swayed to the seductive beat of “Tennessee Whiskey,” her body flush against his. Because of the height difference, conversation was impossible, so he just enjoyed the moment, relishing the feel of her.

As the song ended, she leaned back to look up at him. The dim lighting, the slow beat, the slight buzz, and the warm woman in his arms made for a very romantic moment, and the look in her eyes told him to kiss her. He hesitated a second too long, and she took matters into her own hands, pulling him down so lips could meet.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed a woman in so long, maybe this woman was particularly skilled at it, or maybe he was just caught up in the moment, but the kiss about knocked him off his feet. She pulled away but kept eye contact.

“Dude. Be cool,” he mumbled to himself, which made her laugh. Making her smile boosted his morale and gave him a shot of confidence.

“Been a long time, sailor?” she said, leaving her arms around his neck even though an upbeat song had replaced the slow one.

“Probably too long,” he said. “I’m a little out of practice.”

“I’d be happy to help.”

This time, he kissed her, and they made out for a good minute. Right there in the middle of the dance floor. Normally, PDA was not his thing, but the chances of seeing anyone they knew were slim, and she felt so good.

He didn’t think it was possible to top that moment, so once they returned to the table, he threw down forty bucks, and they left.

On the walk back to the car, Lizzie slipped her tiny hand in his. He hadn’t expected her to be so flirty or forward. Not that he was complaining, but he did have to wonder if it was him specifically? Or did she kiss everyone like that?

He’d been out of the game for so long, it was highly possible dating trends and expectations had changed without him knowing. It was like batting while wearing a blindfold, just swinging away, oblivious to where the ball might be.

“I forgot that going to a bar isn’t just about the booze,” Lizzie said, breaking the silence. “It’s the experience, the company, the atmosphere. That’s what makes the memories. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Sure.” He smiled, grateful he’d done something right. He’d been worried that she dated so much, nothing would seem interesting—that she’d been there, done that with all the basic date ideas.

“So, you think Maya is easing you into not having her around by spending the weekend with my folks?”

“Possibly.” He huffed out a laugh. “Although, she could’ve just jumped at the chance to get away from the old man for a few days.”

“That’s common at her age. I wouldn’t take it personally,” she said before switching topics. “You really haven’t seen Maya’s mom for seventeen years?”

“Nope.”

“What would you do if she called and wanted to see her?”

“No idea.” He thought for a minute. “Maya’s almost an adult. I guess I’d let her decide whether or not to talk to her.”

“Have you kept tabs on Jenna at all? Like on social media or something? Is she married? More kids?”

“Not really. My parents ran into hers several years ago. They told them Jenna had gotten married but then divorced. They didn’t say where she lived.”

“Did her parents want anything to do with Maya?”

“At first, when Maya was a baby, they expressed interest in a relationship. But they didn’t make much effort once I moved to New Bern. I do feel bad about taking her away, but at the time, I had no choice but to follow my parents out here.”

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