Page 19 of Fake Dates and Home Plates
Before I can ask another dumb question, Gavin sets down two frozen mochas. “Your weirdly specific drink order, times two.”
Henley lifts a brow as she takes hers. “Weirdly specific?”
I gesture at her drink. “Extra chocolate drizzle, blended twice so there’s no ice chunks, and topped with cinnamon. You’re welcome.”
She takes a sip, and I can tell by the way her eyes widen slightly that I’ve won again. “Okay,” she admits. “That’s actually insane. In a good way. But I probably shouldn’t have this much sugar one week into the season.”
“Oh, come on,” I say, grinning. “I’m sure this amount of sugar can only be good.”
She lifts her phone. “Smile.”
I barely have time to react before she snaps a picture of me, wide-eyed and mid-sip. Henley looks at the photo before showing it to me. It’s not my best, but it’s a genuine candid.
“Want to browse the books with me?” I tilt my head towards the aisles of bookshelves.
She stands, sipping her drink slowly, and I lead us towards the fiction section, winding around the tables and shelves until we get to my usual section.
She finds a romance novel with a baseball player on the cover and holds it up. “This you?”
“I actually wasn’t available for that photoshoot. They definitely asked me to model, though,” I reply, deadpan.
She grins and pulls her phone out again. I pose dramatically next to the book then sneak a peek of her reading the synopsis on the back.
Then, her phone buzzes.
And again.
Her eyes flick to the screen, and her jaw tightens. “It’s Dakota.”
Fucker.
She taps away at the screen and then tucks the phone into her purse without opening the messages. “Finally blocked him. Shouldn’t have waited this long.”
“Want to talk about it?” I ask carefully.
“Nope.”
I don’t press. I just walk beside her while she pretends nothing happened. She’s stubborn. I like that about her, probably more than I should.
“So what’s your major?” I ask, trying to appear casual as I grab a new release by one of my favorite authors.
This blurb on the back says it’s an angsty romance where the guy falls for his childhood best friend, a girl who doesn’t even realize that he’s completely obsessed with him.
Great, I guess misery loves company. I add it to my stack.
Henley smiles. “Original line of questioning, Baseball Boy.”
She indulges me, and we spend a few more minutes browsing before checking out and walking back to my Jeep.
The next date I plan will have to be longer. I feel greedy, wishing I could take up more of her time. An hour isn’t enough.
On the way home, she leans her head against the window, quiet but not closed off.
“I had fun,” she says finally.
I glance over at her. “You say that like you’re surprised.”
“I am.”
