Page 43 of You Found Me
He once brought me to a fancy Japanese restaurant before we moved to Charleston, which normally I’d love, but that particular night they only had a limited menu featuring special kinds of sushi.
I don’t eat sushi.
There’s something about the texture of a roll that I can’t get past. Also, not a huge fan of raw seafood. I made one comment about not being able to eat anything and he lost it. He then asked me why I hadn’t told him about not liking sushi—as if one of our first dates wasn’t at a little sushi bar near campus. Iattemptedto try sushi in an effort not to disrupt the date he planned, only to quickly admit how I really can’t stomach the vast array of textures.
I’m not sure that even after all of these years, Chance would know what any of my favorite things are. Or if he does, he never cared enough to plan things around them.
I’m brought out of my thoughts when the waiter delivers our food.
Spencer is kind enough not to bring up the fact that I zoned out for the last twenty minutes. I open my mouth to apologize, but he reaches over to grab my hand to say, “Don’t you even dare. I imagine this is weird for you. Wherever you went in your head, it’s okay.”
I feel myself smile. “Thanks, Spence.”
He nods. “However, if you zone out again, I can’t promise that your ravioli will be there when you come out of it.”
I pick up my fork, pointing it at him. “Touch my pasta and I’ll be sure to tell your mom how awful of a date you are.”
Spencer rears back. “Emmaline Mildred Jones! How dare you be so cruel?”
The unbidden snort of laughter that comes out of me is loud enough that an elderly woman two tables over gives me the stink eye. I mouthsorry, then turn to Spencer. “That isnotmy middle name. Not even close.”
He smirks. “I learn something new about you every day. Because you scream Mildred to me.”
“If we weren’t in a nice restaurant, you’d be wearing some of this sauce on your face.” I’m trying so hard to sound threatening, but his stupid dimple is popping out, making it hard for me to stay strong.
He grabs his napkin, waving it in the air. “I surrender. I don’t know your middle name and that moment called for the full government name.”
“Fair enough. Very southern mama of you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now, let’s eat up. I need you to have your strength for what I’ve got planned next,” he says with a wink, causing my cheeks to flame.
***
I can’t contain the smile on my face as we approach the next location for our date.
Spencer definitely had the girls’ help setting this up, because we have never talked about my love of axe throwing. Yet, here we are at Throwback Axe Bar in the city. It opened not too long after I moved to Charleston, but thanks to Chance not being a fan of this hobby of mine, I’ve never visited.
Their whole gimmick is that they only play throwback songs—nothing within the last decade allowed.
Everything about this place is amazing, the music, the décor, the vibes, and right now they’re the only things saving me from wanting to leave. Not that Spencer is a terrible date or anything. Nope. It’s because I forgot just howterribleI am at this activity.
How cruel it is to love something and absolutely stink at it. Spencer’s kind enough not to laugh when my first attempt completely misses the target, ricocheting with a thud, but after the second and third attempt he cannot hold it in any longer.
Rolling my eyes. “Okay. Laugh it up. I know I suck. But I’m having too much fun to care. Let’s see if you can do any better.”
Spencer grabs his axe, relaxes his shoulders as he gets into position, and throws it, hitting the outer ring of the target. Within the next two throws he inches closer to the bullseye. He swears he’s never done this before and was just as excited to try it out tonight. After his last throw of the first round, he turns around smirking. “I guess I’m just a natural. Maybe I can give you a couple pointers.”
I scoff, “Whatever. It’s definitely beginner’s luck. Maybe I needed a round to warm up. Just watch me crush your score.”
Only managing to hit the board once, I realize I severelyoverestimated my skills. Spencer playfully taunts me and when it’s his turn again, every single axe lands. I give in and decide to take him up on giving me tips.
“Alright, well when you throw your axe, you let it go too soon. That’s why it’s not making it down the lane. You need to let your arm get completely parallel to the ground before tossing it. Like this.”
As he’s talking, he comes up behind me, placing his hand around my wrist, which in turn causes him to be pushed firmly against my backside. I freeze for a second before relaxing.
This isn’t weird, I mean we’re just two friends hanging out, right?
He steps back, telling me to give it a try. With just that one tip, I end up hitting the target. I’ve barely begun to celebrate before it unceremoniously falls to the ground.
