Page 66 of The Dating Game

Why I offer this tidbit of information, I don’t know. Again, it’s not as if I actually plan on following their advice to teach Will something. Does the image of me trying to teach Will how to form an A, then laughing as he messes it up time after after until I finally end up having to put my own hand on his to form the symbol correctly pop into my head?

Maybe.

I’ll never tell.

Either way it doesn’t matter because they ignore me, having already moved onto Marley’s idea: driving. Or rather they’ve moved on to discussing what a shame it is that Will already knows how to drive since apparently me teaching him how to drive would just be so adorable.

And that, I suppose, is the main difference between Belinda and these girls: their romance references are of the YA variety.

With a half laugh, half sigh I turn my attention back to the fruit, sticking a large serving spoon into the bowl of strawberries.

“Good morning, ladies,” Will’s deep rumble makes my stomach flip. The girls, lined up down the table to serve the food, all start giggling.

Note to self: after this week, never travel around with a group of teen girls again. It’s like having my own personal broadcasting system. Is Will wondering if we were just talking about him? Nope, because these girls already made it clear that we absolutely were.

“Morning, Will,” the girls all chant around their giggles.

I look up from the strawberries to find his eyes on me. My breath catches in my throat at the intensity in his gaze. I never knew it was possible to feel so beautiful in cotton shorts, a plain t-shirt, and a messy bun, but Will is staring at me like he never wants to stop. Like I’ma painting in a museum and he wants to take a seat on the bench so he can memorize every part of me.

“Hey,” I say breathily, my stomach continuing its epic floor routine: flip, twist, double flip, back handspring. But then I’m jolted back to reality by the sound of more giggling.

Right. Teenagers. Fruit. Breakfast.

“You hungry?” I ask him, proffering a spoonful of strawberries before realizing he doesn’t have a plate or anything to put them on.

“Uh, yeah.” He looks down at the spoon. “But I’ll let the kids go first.”

“Right, of course.” I nod.

“Do you need any help with serving or prep?” he asks.

“There’s one more watermelon in the kitchen,” Raegan calls from her spot by the yogurt. “Do you know how to cut up a watermelon, Will? Because if not, Brooke could totally teach you.”

A chorus of awwws, follow this suggestion, and suddenly, I miss the giggling.

Will’s eyebrows pop up as his gaze swings back my way. “A watermelon cutting lesson? That’s what I’m being offered right now?”

I shrug. “I do cut a mean watermelon,” I tell him. “It’s a very hydrating fruit, so you know I’m all about it.”

He laughs. “Your commitment to hydration is unparalleled.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you.” I hold a hand to my heart in dramatic fashion. “I’ve been waiting for someone to give me the appropriate recognition for that.”

We share a goofy smile, and happiness swells inside me. I like Will. I like him so much.

Only I can’t fully enjoy the feeling. Not when guilt is standing up in the back of my brain demanding some attention. “Don’t forget that you’re lying to him!” It shouts.“This relationship is only a bet!”

But what if it’s not just a bet anymore? What if the game has changed for me? What if I want all of this to be the real deal? Not a game at all.

“Look at this spread.” Tim, one of the other chaperones, steps up next to Will, surveying the breakfast options with a smile. Will turns to him and they exchange morning pleasantries. I refocus on the food. A line is forming to eat which means I need to actually dole out food now.

“I’ll see you later,” Will says as a kid holds his plate out for some berries.

“Yes,” I agree. “See you later.”

He turns and walks away, and it feels as if my heart leaps out of my chest to go with him.

Chapter 25

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