Page 20 of I Choose You

The hostess turns toward us before I can respond and asks for our reservation details. A minute later, a server introduces himself to guide us out to the enclosed patio that is supposed to be quieter than inside. Twinkling lights hang high above the tables when we get outside, causing a glimmer of light over them. It’s not spacious out here, but they’ve spaced the booths and tables the perfect distance apart to offer privacy. The best thing about it all? The miniature heaters on the tables kick start with the press of a button, and the canopy above protects us from prospective rain.

Nelly squeals in delight when she recognizes our dates at a booth at the far end of the enclosed patio. I follow her line of sight, my nerves pausing when I get a glimpse of the men she points to. If there’s one good thing about this night, it’s that Nelly wasn’t kidding. They are good-looking. Like, Tom Brady level of attractive. The perfect way to distract my Mason-filled thoughts, that’s for sure.

Like gentlemen, they stand to greet us, and I assume they’re as happy to see us as we are them judging by their mega-watt smiles. I don’t miss the way they trail over our bodies. Almost right away, Nelly sidles up to the guy closest to her. He introduces himself as Trent, his smile almost blinding, but I appreciate the curve of his nose, maple-brown irises, and the olive hue of his skin tone.

The other guy dons an easy-going smile—not as blinding as Trent’s—with dimples indented in his cheeks and lashes longer than mine. He extends a hand in a gentlemanly fashion and introduces himself. “Name is Wes.”

“Mackenzie,” I offer back before releasing my hand from his grip. “It’s nice to meet you,” I tell him as he ushers for me to slide into his side of the booth. I remind myself to breathe as we settle into our seats. My beer—basically all I can handle without getting too drowsy—helps me forget why I’m here when we order drinks.

I wish I were as carefree as Nelly. The way she moves closer to Trent without a care in the world is admirable. What would it be like to snuggle up against someone without worrying about how my heart might survive the repercussions?

It doesn’t take long for Wes and me to get to know each other. He’s a sales representative for a furniture company called Woodz, a new place run by one of his friends that launched three months ago. “We’re just getting started, but it’s been a blast. Getting to chat it up with customers is my favorite part.”

I nod, continuing to guzzle down my beer as he goes through his day-to-day tasks on the job. It’s boring but significantly better than having to keep the conversation going on my own.

He angles his body toward me and rests his arm on the flat wooden plank on the back of the booth. It’s definitely noticeable when he languidly glides his gaze along my figure. Eventually, he takes an interest in what I do for a living, and it boosts my spirits almost instantly. “What is it that you do?”

I glance at Nelly to find her smile as big as ever. Though we’re all here, we all sort of huddle into our own corners of the booth.

I pull the rim of the bottle from my lips and smile shyly. My stomach dips at the idea of Wes being interested in me, even if I’m not entirely captivated back. He’s friendly, but there’s no spark present like there is with Mason. “I’m an adoption coordinator for an animal shelter.”

“Ah.” His shoulder dips down, and his hand falls from the back of the booth. He reverts to sitting normally, and I blink in quick succession, confused over his sudden retreat. Honestly, I’m taken aback by the action. I thought we were getting along well enough. “Animals, yeah, I’m not really a fan.”

A perplexed look crosses my face, but I don’t think he notices since he’s now facing straight ahead.

I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but when Wes twists his lips down in disgust, my generosity halts. It’s clear he finds animals disgusting, dirty, and demanding and isn’t interested in hearing about what I do or the animals I help. His entire demeanor deviates from the outgoing gentleman I met a little while ago to an ignorant jerk. He went from open and charismatic to closed-off and bothered. It’s startling how quickly he flip-flops, but now I totally understand why he repositioned himself.

I guess it was his way of telling me he’s no longer interested.

It pisses me off, and my gaze bounces around the outside patio in amazement, from the passing waitresses to the jumping tangerine flames in the mini heater in the center of the table. Yet, as much as I’d like to call an Uber and get the hell out of here this very minute, I keep my annoyance unknown, tucking it behind an amicable smile and understanding nod. I get that dating comes with being considerate of people’s opinions, especially when you might come across a topic that you disagree on, but I can’t help but question him when he was so quick to write me off.

“Can I ask why?”

“Just not a fan.”

The least he can do is give a valid reason. Still, I try to hold my judgment back and wait for him to explain why he feels the way he does. “Any particular reason?”

“They stink. Smell like…the wild.” His nostrils flare, and his upper lip wrinkles in disgust. I swear his shoulders shiver, too. The entire ordeal is off-putting. Even more so when he scoots away to lean toward the end of the booth.

I gulp down the despair that pools in my stomach. All over again, the dread creeps back in, telling me what a mistake it was to come out. Lips pressed against the rim of my beer bottle, I take an extra-long pull, enjoying the way the alcohol burns down the back of my throat, and try to wrap my head around what’s happening.

He’s waving a bright red flag in my face, and I don’t plan on ignoring it. “Oh, I see,” is all I can physically get out. I’m instantly uncomfortable and want to get the hell out of here. Turns out Wes isn’t such a nice guy after all.

I reach my foot out to kick at Nelly under the table. I have no clue how to get her attention while she’s trying to suck face with Trent. Not inconspicuously, anyway. I want to leave, but I want Wes none the wiser. There’s still a part of me that doesn’t want to be rude, even though he didn’t offer the same decency back after sharing details about myself. I’m about to suffocate in the awkwardness when she doesn’t get my hint and instead leans into Trent’s mouth more.

Wes’s silence is so deafening my ears begin to ring, so I continue to kick until I reach her leg and win over her attention. I’m tempted to yell out a hallelujah when she turns to glare in my direction. There’s no doubt she’s ready to berate me but stops short when I widen my eyes in SOS. Trent whispers into her ear, and it takes all I have not to lean across the table and pull his head from her by the nape of his neck. Her gaze flicks to Wes, who is looking anywhere but me. It’s uncanny how quickly his behavior changes.

If animals make him give the cold shoulder, I wonder what his real deal-breakers are.

“You know, I think I have to use the ladies’ room.” I poke my head through the strap of my messenger bag and give Wes the signal that I would like to leave the booth. Thankfully, he happily complies and allows me to squeeze through.

“Oh!” I’m ready to get down and kiss the floor when Nelly finally recognizes my need for help. “Wait for me! I could use a touch-up.” She follows, but not before nuzzling her nose against Trent’s once more and promising her return.

I’m way ahead, weaving my way through the booths outside to get to the side door that leads to the private hallway where the restrooms are located.

When Nelly sets her tiny purse on the bathroom counter and pulls out a tube of lipstick, I lean against it and state, “I can’t sit there and keep a conversation going for another minute.”

“No one said you have to talk.” Nelly winks, gliding the red cylinder across her bottom lip before smacking them together for effect.

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