Wyatt Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 23), стр. 21

CHAPTER 16

BEFORE MY STUPID DATE

DIANA

M y stomach is a mess.

These are not happy butterflies.

Guilt.

Resistance.

Denial.

Definitely not pretty winged creatures letting me know I’m up to something fantastic.

I limp into the living room. “Thank you for putting our furniture back.”

“I can’t believe you fell down.” Lita kicks her feet up, ready for binge watching her favorite show — how she winds down after work. Although I would argue that she is working while she watches, mental notes taken of advertising strategies the entire time.

“Yeah, I’m a klutz.” And a liar.

Glancing to me, she lifts her eyebrows, reaching for her glass of water. “Pretty dress. You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Pants hurt my leg more.”

Her eyes widen on an idea. “You can tell Eddie that you got hurt! That’s how you get out of the date.”

With all of my weight on my good leg I sigh, “Could’ve told me that two hours ago, Lita!”

“I didn’t think of it then,” she admits on a shrug, setting the glass onto glass so clean they blend, the table now spotless thanks to my freak-out. “Too late now?”

By the three raps on our front door, I know it’s Eddie. Funny what you forget about. He always used to do that. Never two. Never four.

“No, it’s not too late. I’ll go tell him.”

“Really?”

“No, not really.”

“Oh.”

I limp to see a face I never expected to again. It’s a cute face, the kind I used to lovingly touch when I was projecting onto him all of the things that we could be if he would only change about four different qualities that I couldn’t stand.

When I was delusional he was perfect.

“Hi Eddie.”

He nods, “Diana,” as strange for him to see me as the other way around. Deep brown eyes drop to check out my coral dress, one he hasn’t seen before. I used to wear mostly skintight dresses. This one I bought for work — along with others like it — the hem flowing gracefully below my knee, a scoop-neck flattering my collarbone. “You look nice.”

Nice.

How exciting.

Nice is our aim after an hour in the bathroom and thousands of dollars on products we use to look this good. My curling iron alone, I can’t even think about how much I paid for that thing without blanching. It’s obscene.

“Thank you.” I scan his khakis and polo shirt, the preferred style of the majority of guys in our city. The safe route. Sometimes they get a little crazy with their tennis shoes. It’s too vanilla for me. Khakis don’t say I-want-to-rip-your-dress-off.

There is somebody out there for Eddie, and she will be excited about khakis.

But I’m the one who called. And he showed up. “Are you ready to go?” I ask.

A half-smile flirts with his lips. “I’m picking you up, remember? I should be asking you that question. Are you ready to go, Diana?”

“Right, sorry. Guess this is a little weird for me.”

“Me too,” he chuckles, raking back medium length light-brown hair I used to tangle up with my fingers when he went down on me. I loved how soft it was and how much he let me guide him. That was one of his best qualities, he was willing to learn. And he did. He was good at it. Sex was never a problem. When we were doing it I always would think to myself, this is fun. Why don’t I look forward to this?

Lita calls out, “Have fun you two!”

He waves at her. “Hey Lita!”

“Hi Eddie. Good to see you again. You look nice.”

I hide my smile as we walk onto the porch, Eddie looking up at a warm, clear sky. “They said something about a storm today. I saw puddles, that’s it. Big deal. People get all crazy about the weather. Why are you limping?”

“Uh…Little stiff from running.”

That’s the problem with a lie.

It has babies.

He doesn’t open my door for me, which makes me remember that he never did. Except for once on our six-monthaversary. When he did it I melted as if he’d given me a diamond ring dipped in ice cream.

In his car, he blurts, “I’m really surprised you contacted me, Diana. I haven’t heard from you in thirteen months. What was the inspiration?”

I glance to his profile, surprised by such a specific number. “I thought it was a year.”

“Thirteen months. Don’t remember the minutes or the seconds, but it was definitely more than a year.” His engine roars to life.

“How about the hours?”

He laughs, “I forgot you were funny,” and pulls out into my street, white flowers from rows of dogwood trees scattered on every lawn.

“You forgot?” I tease, lightly hitting his arm. “How could you forget I’m hilarious. If there’s anything you should remember about me it’s that I’m very funny.”

His eyes lose a bit of light. “What I remember most is how you taste.”

Wow. That shut me up. My hands clasp in my lap. “So…where are we going for dinner?”

A Jeep turns left onto my street in front of us. Wyatt and I lock eyes through our windshields. My heart leaps into my throat and I don’t hear Eddie’s answer. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know he’s talking, but I can’t make out actual words.

Why is Wyatt on my street?

I pull my phone from my bag and check for a missed text. Nothing new.

As Eddie drones on I look through the back window to see taillights become brake lights. My lips part as Wyatt does a U-turn. A five-point U-turn. This is a narrow street and I can see him swearing to himself while we wait for traffic to let us merge.

Facing front, I frown into the riddle as Eddie