19. Awkward is Fine

19

Awkward is Fine

Alice

I really don't want to go on this date. Seeing Deacon right now is like a stab to the heart, and I feel as though I haven't taken a real breath since we left that lake. I've been thinking about him constantly. And now, I have to go out with Hector and pretend I'm interested in a relationship when another man has taken up all the space in my heart. On top of that, I'm in a massive reading slump, so I won't have a good book to comfort me when I get home. Now, I'm sulking even more, because I sound like a total grump. Which only makes me think of Deacon.

My life is a mess. That man has ruined me .

No, it's okay. I reactivated the dating app for good reason. I need to put myself out there again. It's the only way I'll be able to forget him. Shaking my head, I channel all the confidence I can muster as I emerge from the subway station. I'm not going to let that mishap take me down. If things didn't work out between Deacon and me, it's because they weren't supposed to. It's fate. Going out with Hector tonight is the right choice. He doesn't seem particularly interesting, but the fact that he is interested in me is a huge draw. Beggars can't be choosers. Plus, I might be pleasantly surprised and have a good time. We're going mini-golfing. Who doesn't like mini golf? It's the perfect date setting, and it means I don't have to sit through another grueling dinner.

I arrive near the entrance to the mini golf course and notice him right away. Good start—he looks exactly like his picture. He's dressed in black jeans and a dark-green sweater, and his blond hair is pushed back in a way that reminds me of De—no one. He looks good. Period.

"Hi," I say, sounding as cheerful as I can. "I'm Alice, nice to meet you."

He smiles warmly. "Likewise. I'm Hector. "

We stare at each other for a second, then both chuckle.

"It's a little awkward, I guess," I say, adjusting my brooch. That's the plus side of being back from—I mean, being back. I can wear my beloved brooches again, and this one says, " Cool People Read " with a book and a pair of sunglasses.

He rubs the back of his neck. "I hate first dates." He breathes another chuckle. "But we'll have a good time. Shall we?"

"Sure." I nod, following him inside.

Once he pays for our tickets, we grab our putters and balls, then proceed to the first fairway. The theme is Europe, and each hole represents a country.

"This seems like a fun place," I say as we walk to England, the first country on our European tour. "Have you ever been here before?"

"I have." He smiles as we wait for our turn behind a family of four. "I used to come here all the time with Eloise, my ex."

My eyes widen. "Oh, okay." Maybe it's just me, but bringing a new date to you and your ex's go-to spot feels a little weird. But I guess we all see things differently.

We fall into some chitchat, and I learn that he's recently single, works in real estate, and likes to read. Thrillers and horror mostly, but that's a good start .

Finally, it's our turn to play, and the course is as fun as it looks. The displays are interactive, and when I score in England, a King's Guard figurine pops out and says, "Well done, mate."

There's even a couple of corgis in front of a miniature version of Buckingham palace.

"This is so fun," I say, taking a moment to admire the display before we move to the next hole. "Do you have any pets?"

"I do, actually." He smiles. "I have a pug; his name is Percy."

A grin stretches across my face. "Oh, like in Pocahontas! That's super cool."

"Yeah." He scratches his head. "Eloise named him. She was a big Disney fan, but the rental she moved into didn't allow pets, so I got custody."

"Oh, cool." What else am I supposed to say? We've been on this date twenty minutes, and he's already mentioned his ex twice.

We play Germany, and I bounce with excitement when we make it to France. Call me patriotic, but anytime I see my country somewhere, I get a little giddy. Even if I love it here in the States, France will always feel more like my home country, even if that'll probably change over time .

"Ah, France!" I say, gazing at the beautiful display. There's an Eiffel tower obstacle in the middle of the fairway, a boulangerie front with croissants and bread, and a figurine of a man wearing a striped navy shirt and a beret.

"You love France, huh?"

"I do. I'm half-French, actually," I say with a smile. "I was born in the US, and I live here now. But my dad is French, and that's where I spent most of my life."

"Oh, parlez vous fran?ais? "

" Bien sur. Et toi? "

" Oui, oui. Je —um, sorry, that's the extent of my French vocabulary," he jokes.

I laugh. "That's okay. French is super hard to learn."

"Oh yeah," he says, smiling to himself. "Eloise and I were supposed to get married in France, so she made us take those online classes. It was a disaster."

I force a grin. "Oh, okay."

And, third strike. I wonder if I'll know more about Eloise than Hector by the end of the night. Though I suppose I should cut him some slack. Getting back into the dating scene after a serious long-term relationship must be hard.

We continue our tour of Europe for the next forty-five minutes, and I learn a lot more about Eloise. She doesn't like pizza—who doesn't like pizza?—she took Flamenco lessons when she was a teenager, and they went on a Scandinavian cruise for their two-year anniversary. Hector organized the whole trip, and it was magical—his words, not mine.

Is it weird that I'd rather be on a date with Greg right now? At least he was interested in me—well, kinda. Or Deacon. And that kiss . . . No! Hector is clearly not the one, but neither is Deacon. I just have to think about my favorite book boyfriends. Unfortunately, that's a total bust. Because the thing is, most of them now either look like or sound like Deacon.

"Alice?" Hector frowns, clearly waiting for me to get out of my head and follow him to the Netherlands.

"Right, sorry." I offer an apologetic smile. Not that I have to apologize for thinking about someone else for a few seconds, considering we've pretty much been on a three-way date since we got here.

The Netherlands boasts a super cute display, complete with beds of tulips, decorated clogs, and of course, a functioning windmill as a large obstacle in the middle of the fairway. At the bottom is a small door to putt the ball through.

Hector plays first, lining his putter with the ball, probably hoping to pass through the windmill in one stroke like he did at the Eiffel Tower. But he hits the ball a little too hard, and it ricochets off a rock at the edge of the display. It then catches in the blades of the windmill, getting punted back through the air until it hits my face with a loud thud.

It smacks me hard, and I fall backward with the force of the impact.

"Alice!" Hector yells, hurrying over to me. "Are you okay? I am so sorry."

A little crowd has formed around us, and I offer a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Perfectly fine."

I touch the spot where the ball hit me and feel a large bump growing. Great .

"We should go get you checked out at the nurse's station. They have one at the front. I remember Eloise once cut herself on a—"

"Sure," I interrupt, standing up quickly. "Let's go."

Maybe this incident wasn't just an act of clumsiness on Hector's end. Maybe I have a guardian angel watching over me who decided I'd suffered through this date long enough and should leave Hector and Eloise alone together.

Finally, I reach my street, and I'm eager to get home. Even if Deacon has taken possession of my mind again, that's better than the weird date I just endured .

Of course, Deacon's bar lights are still on when I walk past. And, of course, he steps out just when I thought I'd passed by incognito. Okay, he's taking out the trash, but still.

He glances at me, and I wave awkwardly. What am I supposed to do? Jump into his arms and kiss him? Awkward is just fine.

His eyes narrow as his resting frown deepens. "Who did this to you?" he asks, examining the bump on my head as he comes closer. "And where can I find him?"

I press my lips to contain my smile. Yes, I'm one of those girls who's dreamed of a man saying that to her. How annoying that Deacon has checked all these boxes when he's not even interested. I wave a hand in dismissal. "It's nothing. Don't go all dark romance on me. That's Emma's thing."

His pupils dilate ever so slightly. I guess I found a way to make this even more awkward. Impressive.

Our gazes lock for a few seconds, both of us probably hearing the word "romance" echo in our heads—or maybe it's just me. Finally, I clear my throat. "I just got into a fight with a stray golf ball. You know me. I'm a total klutz." I force a laugh, but it comes out strangled.

His eyes narrow further. When he's about to say something, I cut him off. "Well, see you around," I blurt, turning on my heels so I don't have to stay there a second longer.

Before I can leave, he places his hand on my shoulder, and I swear it just burst into flames. "Wait."

I turn back around but keep my eyes on the pavement. "Deacon, I can't . . ."

"Let me take you out," he says in one breath, causing me to glance up and meet his gaze. It's intense and electrifying.

I furrow my eyebrows. "What?"

"These guys you're going out with, they're all wrong. You keep choosing boys when what you need is a real man."

My heart stutters, and I gulp. "How do you even know who I'm going out with?"

"I've seen them picking you up or bringing you back. They're not worthy of you, and they don't have a clue about how to treat you on a date or what you'd like."

I quirk an eyebrow. "Oh, because you do?"

He smiles, and I shouldn't have looked, because there is absolutely no way I can resist him when he smiles. "Yeah, I've got an idea or two."

"Really?"

"I have eyes, and I see you."

"I thought you weren't interested," I can't help but say, my eyes downcast again .

He trails his fingers on my cheeks, the soft touch giving me goosebumps. Then, he tucks my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. "I say very stupid things sometimes, but you can't hold it against me. Let me take you out."

My eyes plunge into his deep blue irises, and my heart constricts. That kiss has already shattered me. If I go out with Deacon, there's no coming back. When I date someone, I'm always all in. Heck, I'm already all in, and we're not even dating. There's a huge chance I'll end up with a crushed heart. But he's the only one I think about. He's constantly on my mind, in my dreams, and in every one of my books. Maybe he won't break my heart. Or, maybe he will, but it might break the spell at the same time, and I can go back to hating him.

"Alice," he says, his eyes searching mine.

"Okay," I breathe. "I'll go out with you."

My entire body warms as I speak those words, and the prospect of going on a date with Deacon is so much better than diving into even the coziest book. I freeze at that awful reality.

Please don't tell my friends I said that.