Page 16 of The Dating Coach
I spent the next twenty minutes explaining body language cues – genuine smiles that reached the eyes, open posture, feet pointed toward the person of interest, unconscious mirroring. Liam took actual notes, asking surprisingly insightful questions about cultural differences and contextual variations.
"Okay, practical application time," I announced, scanning the coffee shop. "See the redhead at the counter? Green sweater, yoga mat bag?"
"The one who keeps checking her phone?"
"That's defensive body language. She's creating a barrier, doesn't want to be approached." I pointed subtly to another woman. "But her – brunette with the laptop. See how she keeps looking up, making eye contact with people, smiling at the barista? Open to interaction."
"How can you tell all that from here?"
"Practice. Years of watching people to avoid the creeps and identify the safe ones." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Liam's expression softened. "Gemma—"
"Your turn," I interrupted, not ready for wherever that conversation might lead. "Go introduce yourself. Just a friendly conversation, nothing heavy. Practice showing genuine interest."
"Now?" He looked at the brunette like she might bite.
"Unless you'd prefer to wait until she leaves and practice on thin air?"
He stood with the kind of resignation usually reserved for root canals. "If I die of embarrassment, I'm haunting your chemistry notes."
"Noted. Now go."
I watched him approach the counter, ostensibly to order another coffee. His transformation was immediate and fascinating – the confident athlete disappeared, replaced by someone uncertain and awkward. His shoulders tensed, his usual fluid grace deserting him. When he tried to initiate conversation with the brunette, he fumbled his words, made approximately three seconds of eye contact, and somehow managed to knock over her coffee cup with his elbow.
The disaster was oddly endearing. Here was Liam Delacroix, who could command a hockey rink and make my pulse race with a smile, reduced to stammering apologies while frantically grabbing napkins. The brunette was gracious about it, but clearly more interested in escaping than continuing their interaction.
He slunk back to our table like a defeated puppy. "That was horrifying."
"That was illuminating," I corrected, trying not to smile at his misery. "You completely changed your entire demeanor. Why?"
"Because I was actively trying?" He slumped in his chair. "When women approach me, I don't have to worry about rejection or saying the wrong thing. They've already decided they're interested. This is... different."
"Welcome to how the rest of us live," I said dryly. "But we need to work on maintaining your confidence while showing genuine interest. Let's try role-playing."
"You want me to practice on you?"
Something in his tone made my stomach flutter. "It's a standard educational technique. Unless you're uncomfortable—"
"No," he said quickly. "No, let's do it."
I moved to the chair beside him, angling my body to simulate a more natural interaction. "Okay. Pretend we've just met at a party. You're interested. Show me how you'd approach."
He took a breath, visibly centering himself. When he turned to me, some of his natural ease had returned. "Hi. I'm Liam. I noticed you from across the room and wanted to introduce myself."
"Generic," I critiqued. "What specifically noticed? Be genuine, specific. Try again."
He studied me for a moment, and something shifted in his expression. "Hi. I'm Liam. I noticed you're drinking tea instead of coffee like everyone else here, and the way you people-watch like you're cataloging behavior for future reference. Doing research?"
"Better," I said, ignoring how accurately he'd read me. "But you're still maintaining too much distance. Appropriate physical proximity shows interest without being creepy."
"Show me appropriate," he said, and why did that sound like a challenge?
I scooted closer, until our knees almost touched. "This is friendly interest. Close enough to create intimacy, far enough to respect boundaries."
"And if I wanted to show romantic interest?" His voice had dropped lower, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
"Then you'd..." I meant to give a response, but he was already leaning in, cutting the distance between us by half. His cologne wrapped around me – woodsy and warm and distinctly male. "You'd create moments of closer proximity during conversation."
