Chapter Eight

Holly

“ I ’m nervous,” I admit, exhaling slowly as I clutch

my phone tightly against my ear.

“Don’t be.”

I roll my eyes, letting out a scoff as I tap my fingers on the table, staring at the empty chair in front of me. “Wow. What great advice. Has anyone ever told you that you should be a motivational speaker?”

He pauses, and I can immediately picture the expression on his face. His dark eyebrows would furrow, and his lips—the ones that have never felt the hint of a smile—would curve into a frown. I almost wish he was here with me. I feel less nervous when he’s here. Even though we’re in the café of failed dates past.

“Daniel’s a great guy. Just be yourself. I think you two will hit it off.”

My brows knit together. Be yourself . “Who am I, though?”

He exhales deeply. “You’re a mystery, Bambi. Even to me.”

“Well, that’s not exactly helpful. Aren’t you supposed to be my dating coach? Give me something to work with here. ”

“I’m no such thing,” he retorts. “Besides, I already did my job by getting you this date. Just relax, have fun, and be your funny self. He’ll love you.”

“Wow,” I snicker, raising my eyebrows. “Love on the first date? You must think very highly of your dating coach skills, Mark.”

“Jesus,” he grumbles. “Why the hell did I ever agree to this?”

“Because you had nothing better to do?” I tease.

He grunts again. “Something like that.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Also, did you just call me funny?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

A laugh escapes me as Mark abruptly ends the call, and I tuck my phone into my pocket, pulling my coat tighter around me.

“Holly?”

I glance to the side and see a guy looking down at me with a smile. My heart picks up, nerves surrounding me. Is this Daniel?

“Hi, that’s me,” I say, laughing lightly. “Are you Daniel?”

He nods, his head shaking slightly as he takes me in with a quick once-over. “Wow. When Mark said you were hot, he wasn’t lying,” he says with a laugh that makes my cheeks flush at the reminder of Mark calling me hot.

I’m sure he just said that as a throwaway comment to get this guy to date me, but I’m glad it worked. I let my eyes fall to the length of him. He looks to be around my age, or maybe even a little younger, but he’s actually pretty cute.

“And when he said you were cute, he wasn’t lying either.”

My date frowns, his smile faltering. “He said I was cute?”

I nod, my lips lifting into a teasing smirk. “Yeah. He even threatened to steal you away and everything,” I joke, letting out a small laugh, but his frown deepens, letting me know he doesn’t appreciate my humor. “Just kidding,” I say, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Do you want to grab a coffee?”

His face settles as he shrugs off his coat and takes a seat in front of me. “Sure,” he says with a shrug. “I’d love an espresso.”

I blink, caught a little off guard. My brows knit in confusion when he doesn’t make any attempt to move. Since this a small café, there aren’t any waitresses coming to the table, and seeing as he’s made himself comfortable, it doesn’t look like he’s heading to the counter anytime soon. Does he expect me to order for him?

“Um… sure,” I manage, lifting myself out of the chair before heading to the counter to order our drinks. The barista gives me a sympathetic smile as I fumble with my purse.

When I return with our drinks, Daniel’s already scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t even look up as I set his espresso down in front of him.

“Thanks,” he says absentmindedly .

“You’re welcome,” I reply, forcing a smile as I take a sip of my drink. “So, you work with Mark?” I ask, hoping to make some conversation.

“Yeah,” he says, lifting his head to grab his espresso and taking a sip. “I’m a vendor. I bring in the liquor for Mark.”

“Oh.” My eyebrows lift in intrigue. “That’s interesting. How did you get into that?”

He shrugs, taking another sip. “Just did, I guess.”

I blink, trying to hide my disappointment. Not exactly a talker, then.

“That’s… fun. I’m actually a social worker,” I say. “I work with foster kids.”

He arches his brow slightly. “Oh. That’s cool… I guess.”

I blink at his dismissive tone. “You guess?” I repeat.

“I mean…” He shrugs. “I don’t like kids all that much, so working with them seems like a nightmare.”

“Oh.” My smile falters as I process his words. I’ve always pictured having kids of my own someday, but if Daniel doesn’t like children, could there even be a future between us? Could I seriously give up on something so important for a guy I barely know?

I glance out the window, my mood lifting slightly as I watch snowflakes softly landing on the glass. “Oh hey, It’s snowing,” I say, my lips lifting into my first genuine smile since Daniel sat down.

He turns to look out the window and grins. “Fuck yeah. I love when it snows.”

My smile widens, and for a moment, I think there might be hope after all. “You do? ”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing as he shakes his head. “People always trip on the ice. It’s hilarious.”

“Oh.” I lean back in my chair, my smile fading. The silence between us grows heavy, and I find myself at a loss for words.

We sit in silence for a while as I try to think of something to say that might salvage this date, but nothing comes to mind. I glance up at Daniel, who seems perfectly content to sip his espresso, and occasionally glance down at his phone as if looking for something more interesting to occupy his attention.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat to turn his attention back to me. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

He shrugs, not bothering to look up from his drink. “Not much,” he says. “I hit the gym sometimes. Go out with the guys. You know, typical stuff.”

I nod, feeling the conversation slipping away again. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“Not really,” he replies, his tone flat. “I guess I watch a lot of sports. And I like cars.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” I say, grasping at any straws I can. “Do you have a favorite team?”

“Not really,” he repeats, and I can feel my patience starting to wear thin. “I just watch whatever’s on.”

“Right,” I murmur, taking another sip of my drink. The warmth of the coffee does little to ease the chill between us.

The cafe door swings open, and a gust of cold air rushes in as a couple walks inside, laughing together as they shake the snow from their coats. They seem so happy, completely absorbed in each other, and I feel a hint of envy settle within me. This is what a date should feel like—effortless, enjoyable, fun. Instead, I’m sitting across from a guy who barely seems to care whether I’m here or not.

Daniel’s eyes flicker towards the couple, and I catch him smirking at the woman’s ass when she turns around. It’s subtle, but I see it, and my heart sinks a little further.

“Listen, Daniel,” I start, clearing my throat slightly. He looks up at me, his eyes widening slightly as if he’s been caught. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“Why not?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

I can’t believe he’s serious. Did he think this was going well? “We have nothing in common,” I tell him. “And I just caught you checking someone else out while you’re on a date with me.”

He lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “We’re not together, though.”

My brows lift of their own accord. Wow. “No, we’re not,” I agree. “But I think I deserve a little respect if you’re on a date with me.”

He watches me for a second, the lines between his brows creasing before he shakes his head. “I don’t get what the big deal is,” he says.

Of course, he doesn’t.

I lift off the chair, his eyes immediately dropping to my cleavage that I wish was covered right now. I quickly zip up my coat and grab my bag. “I think it’s best if I go,” I tell him.

“Alright, I guess,” he says with an irritated sigh. “Do you want me to tell Mark it didn’t work out between us? ”

I shake my head. “No, I’ll tell him myself.”

That is if I don’t kill him first.

I step outside, the cold air hitting me immediately. I pull my coat tighter, my breath puffing out in front of me as I hurry down the street. The snow is falling faster now, covering the sidewalks in a thin layer of white.

A gasp leaves my lips when I almost slip on a patch of ice, and a bitter laugh escapes me. How fitting.

I reach into my purse, grabbing my phone as I scroll through my contacts. I can barely feel the tips of my fingers as they hover over the screen, searching for Mark’s name. My heart pounds with disappointment.

Is this seriously what he thinks I want? What I deserve?

The thought makes my stomach churn. I know I deserve better. I deserve someone who cares about the things I care about, who respects me, and who actually wants to get to know me.

And I’m going to make sure Mark knows that.