Page 10 of Lucky Dance Date
“Umm… sure…” he replied.
“Great!” Mama said. “We’ll make sure to get everything settled before we leave tonight.” Then she went off on another monologue about how she couldn’t wait for grandchildren, and Cameron stiffened beside me.
I felt sorry for him, but it was for the best. It meant that he would know to stay away from me.
Being with me meant dealing with them, and that wasn’t something I would wish on anybody.
∞∞∞
“You seem more relaxed tonight,” Cameron said as a waitress set glasses of water on the table.
“Oh?” I asked.
“First meeting jitters?” he replied.
“Yeah.”
The silence was back, but I didn’t necessarily want to fill it. I wanted the date to be over, for Cameron to think I wasn’t the omega for him. If I ended things—and it got back to my parents—it would be bad for me, but if he just decided I wasn’t the one…
“Can I ask you a question?”
I looked up to see a concerned expression on his face. “Ok.”
“Do you want to be here?”
If life had a movie soundtrack, my shock would have been accompanied by the sound of a record scratch.
“Um… what?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I may be wrong. But I get the sense that you’re here more out of a sense of obligation than a desire to be with me, and, to be honest, so am I.”
I coughed on a sip of water. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” he backpedaled. “It’s just…” He sighed and wrung his hands. “You seem like a sweet man, but my instincts tell me that you’re not the one for me. I’d like to be your friend though, if that’s ok.”
I started laughing—I couldn’t help it.
“Um, are you ok?”
I wiped a tear from my face. “Honestly? I’m relieved.”
Cameron relaxed. “Really?”
I nodded. “You’ve met my parents.”
He scowled. “I think I’d have gone no-contact years ago if I’d been in your position.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I get it. You’re really not upset?”
I shook my head. “No. I was hoping you’d decide I wasn’t for you.” I paused. Something inside insisted that even if Cameron wasn’t my future mate, he was a friend I could trust. “I’m actually in love with another man, but… my parents hate him.”
“Why?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, fingernails digging into my palms. “He’s hispanic.”
There was a beat of silence.
