Page 80 of Third and Ten

“At least you have more experience than I do,” she says after a while.

“I’ve forced myself to go on first dates here and there, just to keep up appearances, but I haven’t gotten past that with anyone in a couple of years, at least.” I cringe, realizing how desperate I sound. Now she’s probably thinking I’m pathetic, even though ‘a couple of years’ is still generous.

“I honestly can’t remember my last date,” she admits, looking embarrassed. “I guess that means we’re both a little out of practice…I mean, with relationships in general,” she adds quickly before taking another sip of her beer.

“So it seems.” I mean to say that I don’t want to refer to this as practice, but I’m distracted when she drops the R-word. “And just to clarify, we are actually in one of those, right?”

She coughs and chokes on her drink before she ends up emptying her glass in an attempt to clear her throat. “Sorry, that went down wrong,” she says breathlessly.

“Tenley,” I begin, amused by her awkwardness. “I know we agreed to keep this quiet for now, but I meant every word I’ve ever said about you being the only woman I want. Not only do you check all my boxes, but you add new ones.”

She stares down at the table quietly, as if she’s mulling it over, until our waitress interrupts us again.

“I took the liberty of bringing refills. Um, can I get you any appetizers?” It’s obvious that the poor girl is purposefully avoiding the elephant on the wall as she studies her notepad.

I glance over at Tenley and notice her eyes looking a bit glossy after downing that first beer. “Maybe something with carbs,” I mumble. “How about the nachos?”

Tenley nods, then stops and blinks a few times, as if her head has gotten too thick. I suppress a smile, thinking I might enjoy seeing her tipsy. “And a couple of glasses of water, if you don’t mind,” I add.

“Sure, I’ll put that right in.” Then Cara’s eyes flicker to the photo next to the jersey and down to me. She recoils when she realizes I’m staring at her expectantly. “I’m sorry, this is going to sound crazy, but—”

“Oh, it’s him,” Tenley finishes for her in a surprisingly stern tone. “Your hostess really sat a guy at the table directly below his own freaking jersey without realizing it. Unless y’all did it on purpose just so you could have an excuse to ask him about it, despite the fact that he’s clearly on a date.”

Well, okay, then.

I shoot Tenley a heated look across the table as I formulate a new game plan. Hearing her get all worked up and stake her claim is absolutely turning me on.

“I’m sure it was just a coincidence, though. Right, babe?”

She seems calmer after a second, and I turn back to the waitress. “I’m thinking I’d like to put in an order for a couple of burgers to go while you get us that appetizer, if it’s not too much trouble.”

She nods quickly. “Um, sure, of course. Anything else?” She looks back at Tenley, who has already resigned herself to the fresh beer at the table, presumably because she’s planning to drink away her shame.

“Just the water,” I say, smiling politely until Cara shuffles away.

I reach over and slide Tenley’s glass beyond her reach. “You good over there, date?”

She cringes. “I might have accidentally shotgunned that first beer on an empty stomach, so—no, not really. I’m sorry.” Her cheeks are red as she covers her mouth to stifle a hiccup, and I laugh at her again.

“You’re a cute drunk, aren’t you?” I ask, reaching over to pull her hand away from her face and interlace our fingers.

“I am more fun, or so I’m told,” she replies, then bites her lip once she realizes she probably shouldn’t have shared that much information. I say nothing but slide the glass back to her with my free hand, making her giggle. “Not that kind of fun.”

I give her that same smolder from before, and the way her chest heaves tells me she’s lying. I get the feeling that drunk Tenley is extra friendly, which is fortunate since my new plan includes closing out the night the way I described earlier.

“Hmm,” I say, adding a growl to my voice. “Speaking of fun, do you think you’d be okay with finishing off the burgers at my place, so we can make my whole ‘getting cozy and watching football’ fantasy come true? I could bring you home, though, if you’re not up for it.”

She shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll be fine once I get something in my stomach.” I beam at her as I continue playing with her fingers.

Cara returns with two glasses of water, a plate of nachos, an awkward apology, and a promise that our burgers will be ready within minutes. I shoo her away as quickly as I can and coax Tenley into getting a bit of water and some nachos down, but she still manages to finish off that second beer by the time our takeout arrives.

“I’m okay, I promise,” Tenley swears as she scoots out of the booth, but she’s a little wobbly on her feet. I make sure to leave our waitress a decent tip before helping my adorably tipsy date out to the truck.

The conversation is a lot sillier on the way back, especially once Tenley gets the giggles, and we entertain each other with funny stories at Ethan’s expense. She seems to have sobered up by the time we get back to my house, protesting and claiming that she’s fine when I scoop her up and carry her to the front porch. But she takes her time getting back to her own feet.

I sigh after setting her down to open the door, already missing her warmth against me. She peers around as she kicks off her shoes, and I immediately love the way she looks at ease being barefoot in my house. I consider skipping the burgers and going straight for the “football and chill” part, but I ultimately go into the kitchen to plate our food because I’m actually starving.

“Want to grab us a couple of drinks?” I ask her.

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