Page 71 of If I Could

“Since I’m going with Kyle, I was thinking we’d just meet you there. Maybe around seven?”

“You’re making me go alone? We were supposed to ride together.”

“We could come pick you up.”

“Forget it. I can’t believe you’re making me be a third wheel on your date with the roadside serial killer.”

“Please do not call him that tomorrow night. Or ever again. And please try to be nice.”

“I have to be myself, Sage. You know I say what I think.”

“You have to at least give him a chance. And don’t question him all night.”

“I can’t promise you that. If you’re actually going to date this guy for real, I need to know more about him.”

I’d like to date him for real but I don’t think he’d agree to it, especially given how he acted tonight.

“So tomorrow around seven,” I say. “Text me if you change your mind and want us to pick you up.”

We say goodbye and I go to bed, my mind still on Kyle. It’s been on him all day. I keep thinking about him and I don’t know why. I’ve dated plenty of guys in the past and never thought about them this much. Maybe it’s because Kyle is still such a mystery. I’m actually hoping Nina is her usual prying self tomorrow and finds out as much as she can about him.

* * *

The next night,Kyle picks me up just before seven. He called me earlier in the day, asking what to wear. I told him a t-shirt and jeans was fine but he showed up in jeans and a black button-up shirt.

“You look nice,” Kyle says, glancing at me from across the seat of Miller’s truck. We’re on our way to the firehouse, which is on the other side of town.

“Thanks.” I’m wearing a dress tonight but it’s nothing fancy. Just a casual cotton sundress that’s white with small red flowers all over it. It has straps at the top, leaving my arms and shoulders exposed so I brought a jean jacket in case it gets cold later.

“You look nice too,” I say.

“I know you told me to wear a t-shirt but it didn’t feel right for going out.”

“Around here, t-shirts are acceptable pretty much anywhere, even church. People don’t dress up, especially guys.”

“Well, where I’m from, t-shirts are for working out so wearing one to a function doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“People in L.A. don’t wear t-shirts outside of a gym?”

“If they do, they’re designer and cost a couple hundred dollars.”

“Is that what yours cost?”

“No, butthisshirt did.”

Taking a closer look at his shirt, itdoeslook expensive. It’s some kind of cotton blend but doesn’t have a single wrinkle and has unique buttons that are black, outlined with a thin silver. The shirt fits him perfectly. There’s no bagginess in the shoulders. The sleeves aren’t too long. The chest part is fitted. It looks really good on him with his tan complexion and dark hair and eyes. He looks hot.

“How do you afford expensive clothes on a writer’s salary? I thought writers didn’t make much, unless they’re really famous and have sold a lot of books.”

I wait in silence for an answer. I’m sure he didn’t like the question. It’s personal and he hates personal questions. And probing about his financial status probably wasn’t appropriate.

He confirms this by saying, “People don’t like being asked about money.”

“Sorry. It just came out. I’m so used to talking about my own money situation that I just assume others are as well, but I shouldn’t assume.”

“So what exactly is this thing we’re going to? You said it’s a fundraiser, but what goes on there? Is it just a dinner?”

“It’s a dinner and dance and they’ll have some items to auction off. People donate things like pies or quilts, and the businesses in town donate stuff.”

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