Page 60 of Love Me Not

Joshua shook his head. “No, I’ll carry this one. Thanks, Coach Collins,” he said with a wave. “Thanks, Mrs. Collins.”

Stunned into silence, I stared as the boy trotted away with his mom picking up her pace to keep up.

“Did he call me Mrs. Collins?”

Trey was about to pop a vein trying to hold back his laughter. “He did.”

I’d never been called Mrs. anything, and it felt…uncomfortable. Like wearing a shoe that was too small. “I don’t like it.”

He held up his hands. “I’m not proposing. Not marriage, anyway.”

What did that mean? “Are you proposing something else?”

“Dinner.”

“I ate before I got here.”

Trey crossed his arms, stretching the sleeves of the Polo tight over his biceps. “I meant tomorrow.”

The imaginary shoe tightened like a vise across my toes. “You mean like a date?”

He grinned. “Two friends hanging out over a meal.”

We were back to semantics, but that grin was hard to resist, even for me. “Are you buying?”

“We can go Dutch if that makes you feel better.”

That would feel more like hanging out. “Okay, but I get to pick the place.”

With a nod, he said, “Deal.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Are you really not nervous?” Becca asked for the fourth time. She’d called to lend her unneeded moral support for, as she put it, my first date in eons. I put her on speaker phone while I finished getting ready.

“Why would I be nervous? It’s dinner with a person I see all the time. Nervous is reserved for crazy stuff like jumping out of an airplane or telling my mother that I’m never having kids. Eating a meal with Trey Collins isn’t near as frightening as either of those scenarios.”

Noah fussed in the background, and then went silent, meaning she’d slipped him a pacifier. “But this is a date. You understand that, right?”

I considered having the date verses hang-out semantics debate with her, but opted for sarcasm instead. “Oh, my gosh. Really? Are you sure?”

Becca was not amused. “Fine. That was a stupid question. I can’t believe you’re actually going.”

“It’s dinner,” I repeated. “People eat, and sometimes they eat together. I’m not fitting Trey for a tux, Becca. Don’t read too much into this.”

“At least tell me what you’re wearing.”

Not having a lot of time to prepare offered the benefit of less time to panic and overthink the wardrobe. Trey was used to seeing me in my plain teacher clothes, which was about ninety percent of my wardrobe. But I did own a little color.

“Since we’re going to DeBlaze, I’m wearing jeans with my black boots and that purple top we found at Robinson.”

One of my favorite Italian restaurants, DeBlaze at 131, was walking distance from my apartment and had a nice relaxed atmosphere. They offered a phenomenal meatball starter, and the bourbon bacon cheesecake was to die for. The food was a little pricey but nothing too crazy, and every entrée was both tasty and filling. Robinson was a huge shopping area to which Becca dragged me now and then, mostly against my will.

“Purple is a good color on you. Did he pick DeBlaze?”

“No, that was my choice. We won’t have to worry about parking, and if I decide I’m done, I can call it a night and walk home.”

Disappointment dripping in her voice, she said, “You already have an escape plan? I thought you were giving him a chance.”