Page 27 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

Of course, that’s when the waitress comes to take our order, and I have to stop myself from laughing when we both order the same thing, though we do get different drinks, so that’s something, I guess.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I have to ask,” Austin says after the waitress leaves. “I know we said no more talk of past dating experiences,but were you allowed to order the same drink? What if there were only like five drink choices on the menu and there were six people? I suppose more than two could have the same drink, but what if they didn’t? Andwhydid he care so much?”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I have no idea. I don’t think he cared about the drink thing. There were several times we ordered the same drink and he didn’t fuss. Though sometimes he would if there were options beyond the standard Coke or Pepsi products. Like if they had house made sodas or specialty drinks, then he wanted us to get those and we couldn’t get the same one. I mean, I guess at least he was the one who always changed what he ordered? It would’ve been so much worse if he tried to force me to change. Although,” I bobble my head back and forth, “sometimes I’d ask him what he was thinking of first so I could be sure to pick something he didn’t want. Even if I wanted the same thing as him.”

“See, that’s awful.” He points at me. “You shouldn’t have to adjust your preferences like that just to keep the peace. That’s the sure sign of a doomed relationship.”

I hold up my hands again. “Don’t I know it. Trust me, he’s not even the worst one. Though, in my defense, I broke up with the ones who were obviously worse a lot sooner, if we even got to the point where it was considered a breakup. Some of them like to show how terrible they are by the second or third date. Ending those is just choosing not to see someone again. Not a breakup.”

Austin bobs his head in a nod. “Honestly, I haven’t even been on a date in quite a while.”

That surprises me. “What, really? A cute guy like you?” I give him a skeptical look. “Why not? What’s wrong with you?”

He nearly chokes on his water, laughing. “Seriously? That’s your first thought? What’s wrong withme?”

“Well. Sure. I haven’t gone on a date in a while either. It’s been at least eight months. But that’s because I have a habit of picking terrible men, and I needed time to focus on me and figure out why. That’s what’s wrong with me.”

His eyebrows arch. “Okay, one, eight months isn’tthatlong.”

“What do you consider long?”

He presses his lips together like he’s not sure he should answer, then finally says, “Two years.”

I quickly snap my mouth shut, hoping he didn’t notice it dropping open in shock. “Butwhy?” Unfortunately, I can’t keep the astonishment out of my voice at all.

He snorts. “Wow. You sound like my nana.”

I shrug. “I mean, she’s a smart lady.” I prop my chin on my hand and gesture for him to continue with the other. “Go on. Answer the question. Enquiring minds want to know.”

That has his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter again, and he shakes his head. “I guess my problem is the opposite of yours. I’mtoopicky. Plus, I like to take time between relationships to make sure I’m in the right headspace to try again. I don’t want to still be hung up on someone else while trying to make it work with a new person. That doesn’t seem fair to anyone.”

I nod. “No rebounds, then?”

Another chuckle. “Nah. I don’t see how that’s fair either. I just feel like I’m using someone.”

I narrow my eyes, my dander going up a little. “I mean, if everyone’s on the same page and okay with it, I don’t think it’s reallyusingsomeone. Maybe she needs a rebound too.”

He holds up his hands. “I’m not judging anyone else’s choices. Just saying how I feel about it. I don’t feel good about rebounds or relationships that are purely physical. If that works for others, great. But I like to have an emotional connection before anything else happens.”

Maybe that shouldn’t be so astonishing, but it kinda is. Especially in light of the usual types of guys I go out with. Maybe taking time away from dating has helped me pick better now that I’m willing to try again. Or maybe I just got lucky and Austin’s not really an asshole, even if he was when we were kids.

“Okay,” he says, sounding like he’s ready to introduce a serious business topic next.

I straighten in my chair, schooling my features into my most serious face, and meeting his eyes. He grins at me, laughing, and I force myself not to do the same thing.

Shaking his head, he plays with his silverware. “Sorry. That sounded like I’m going to ask for a loan or something. I’m just curious what you’ve been doing the last ten years or however long it’s been since I moved away.”

“Well,” I draw out. “I’m sure a fair amount of it overlaps with the types of things you’ve been doing. After elementary school, I went to middle school, and then high school.”

He narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “Brat,” he mutters, but he’s smiling.

I flip my hair. “Thanks for noticing. Anyway, I got an academic scholarship to Portland State University. My brother lives across the river in Vancouver, Washington, and he lets me use his washer and dryer sometimes so I can avoid the dorm laundry rooms. That’s thanks to his girlfriend Olivia, though. Or at least I credit her more than him. He’d probably let me even if she wasn’t living with him, but she’s the one who invites me over for dinner at least a couple times a month and tells me to bring my laundry.” I shrug, moving on. “I have one more semester to go, and I’ll finish my degree in psychology.”

His eyebrows jump. “Psychology, huh? What comes after graduation? Grad school?”

Sighing, I shake my head, knowing this question was inevitable. “I’m not sure yet. That seems like the most obvious step, but …” Trailing off, I bite my lip, painfully aware that spilling my guts about all my anxiety and dread about the future isn’t exactly first date appropriate conversation either.

“But?” he prompts, his face open and nonjudgmental.

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