Page 16 of From Our First

Dakota:Wait. You’re on your date. Why are you answering your texts?

Me:Brian was a dud. And so am I. Do you need me to drop off the Tupperware?

I looked at my glass of wine and figured if I stopped now, I could still drive. Or Uber over there and back.

Dakota:No, I can send someone for it. Thank you so much. And we’ll get you another date. I’m sorry!

She sent a bunch of heart emojis, and I sighed, setting my phone down on the counter. I took another sip of my wine and wondered how I was doing this.

When had it gotten this bad?

Sure, it had been a long time since I had found true happiness or even some semblance of it. But I wasn’t dull. I wasn’t a dud. Or maybe I was. The fact that I couldn’t tell anymore was further evidence that I was completely lost.

I pulled out Dakota’s Tupperware and set it next to the front door, waiting for Macon to pick it up. I knew Dakota had an outing the next day for Joshua’s class, and I felt terrible that I had kept the cupcake container. I should have dropped it off before now. But I had forgotten, too lost in my memories and work.

The doorbell rang, and I took another sip of my wine, walking over to the front door to let Macon in.

But when I opened it, it wasn’t Macon.

No, it washim.

“Hey, there,” Nate said, sticking his hands into his pockets. “I was over mooching dinner when Dakota said that she needed this ASAP for Joshua’s class. So, I figured I’d pick it up for her as payment for the meal.”

“Oh. I didn’t know it’d be you.”

His gaze raked over me, and I ignored the answering chill.

Why couldn’t Brian do that for me? Why hadn’t a single look from my date given me any type of feeling like Nate gave me now?

And the shudder wasn’t revulsion. It should be. But, no, he made me feel sexy, like a woman. As if I were wanted.

And I hated him for it.

“Here you go,” I said, handing over the Tupperware. “Tell Dakota I’m sorry for keeping it so long.”

“She said she left it. It wasn’t like you were holding it hostage.” He paused and then cleared his throat. “How was your date?”

I narrowed my eyes at him and then did my best to count to ten. We had a truce, after all. “It was fine. I’m home now. But you never know about date two.”

He raised a single brow. “Sounds like fun.”

“Anyway, thanks for picking this up for her. I’m about to chug the rest of this wine, so driving probably wouldn’t have been a good idea.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m not going to talk about my date with you, Nate.”For multiple reasons.

“Understood. I don’t think it’s a good idea either. I am sorry it didn’t go well, though. And I’m only guessing it didn’t because of the wine.”

I didn’t know why he had added that part, but for some reason, I was grateful he had. Maybe the wine was getting to me. We stood there staring at each other awkwardly for a few minutes until he cleared his throat.

“Anyway, I should get this back to her. You look good, Myra.”

Surprised, I nearly took a step back. “Oh. Thank you. I tried.”

“You never really have to,” he whispered. His voice was so low, I wasn’t even sure I had heard him. But when he turned on his heel and walked away, I could only stand there blinking, wondering if maybe it was the wine.

Because Nate couldn’t have said that.

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