Page 71 of At First Flight
“He’s sweet, Lila. Just give it a try. And if it’s awful, we’ll fake an emergency like a sprained ankle or severe diarrhea, and I’ll drive us home. Pinky promise,” she says, holding out her pinky to reiterate.
I’m starting to squabble just as a shadow falls over the table in the already dimly lit bar.
Ashvi is right. He is attractive. Tall, friendly smile, broad-shouldered, rolled sleeves. He’s every girl’s fantasy.
I need to prove that overstepping things with Dean would end in catastrophe. Maybe this is my chance. He could be my fantasy, too.
I give her a disdainful look as I grip her pinky with my own and shake it.
“Ashvi, good to see you again. Lila?” he says, placing his own beer on the high-top table and holding out his hand in greeting. At least he’s drinking something with color in it and not a light beer.
I return his greeting. “Sorry, Ashvi didn’t give me your name.”
“Matthew.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Conversation flows with the usual first-date interrogations. Where we grew up. What we studied in school. Favorite sport. Yada, yada. The type of questions that left my mind wandering back to the house along the Back Bay channel.
I couldn’t help but compare Matthew and Dean. How Dean’s laugh was deep, caressing, while Matthew’s seems intentional. The way Matthew leans into my space to speak more directly with me, whereas Dean silently demands all my space.
Just as the jukebox switches off and a band steps up onto the stage, my phone buzzes.
A text from Dean flashes on the screen.
Dean:
Kids asked for twelve stories tonight. The sugar from the party should have made them crash. But no, not these two. They said story time wasn’t the same without you.
Dean:
I agree.
Matthew is still talking. I catch bits and pieces of his golden doodle and a squirrel. Apparently, it’s funny because Ashvi giggles beside me. I join in, having very little idea of what’s going on.
Lila:
At The Horse Shoe. Ashvi said she wanted to dance tonight.
Three dots appear immediately.
Dean:
That sounds fun.
Lila:
It was a trick. She set me up on a blind date.
Dean:
She wants to see you happy.
Lila:
He’s not for me.
You are, I want to tell him. Me and my freaking rules. I’m about to throw them all out the window. Besides Ashvi, because I tell her everything, who would know? And, God, I’ve been craving the taste of him. I bet his kisses are as demanding and possessive as he is.
