TWENTY-THREE
“Me?” I’m pretty sure my voice squeaked.
He slid into the seat next to me. “Yes. You.”
Had he followed me down? Did he think I was just driving to Minneapolis for an evening out by myself? That had to be it. Perfect Paul to the rescue, always at the ready to take care of me.
I panicked. “You can’t be. I mean, it would be fun to have dinner with you but I'm actually meeting someone.”
He looked around. “Oh. Who?”
I hesitated. “Um, I don’t really know.”
“What?”
“It’s sort of a date,” I said lamely. “A blind date.”
He grinned. “Oh, really? Another stellar specimen from Match Me?”
I’d told him about the disastrous dates in the Dairy Queen parking lot. After I’d told him about Chase’s proposition.
“No. Someone Jill set me up with.”
He played with the silverware that was on the table. “A friend of hers, then?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really know. I don’t know much of anything about him.”
Except that he was going to be there any minute. And I was sitting at a table with another guy, who under any other circumstance, I would’ve chosen to sit with.
“I’m surprised you agreed to it,” he said. “You know, considering your recent track record.”
“Well, Jill can be pretty persuasive.” I smiled. “And she did say he would be perfect for me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I trust her judgment. I think.”
He picked up the knife and twirled it between his fingers.
“So,” I said. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. But you really need to go. I don’t want to be rude to whoever this guy is.”
He nodded. “OK. But I have a feeling Jill is going to be a little disappointed.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not perfect.”
“What?”
He hesitated. “The person she set you up with is me.”
Color flooded my cheeks as I processed what he’d just said. What he’d been trying to tell me for the last ten minutes.
“You?” I squeaked again.
Paul nodded again. “Uh-huh.”
“But…” I stammered. “But why?”
A waitress showed up, some chick with pink hair and a barbell through her lip, and handed us menus.
“What do you mean why?”
I looked at the menu but the words blurred together. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Or of what was happening with Paul.
“I mean, why you?” I shook my head. “You don’t like me. You feel sorry for me.”
“And you are utterly clueless.”
“What?”
Paul shifted in his seat, moving closer. “I’m a nice guy, right?”
I nodded. He was the nicest guy I knew.
“And I don’t mind helping people out, you know?”
Again, I nodded.
“But do you think any guy would do the things I’ve done for you, for a girl he just feels sorry for?” He smiled, shook his head. “I bought, like, a year’s worth of tampons for you.”
The waitress returned with two glasses of water. I gulped half of mine down in one swallow.
“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ve never once expressed interest in me. Ever.”
“Well, duh. You were with Chase. And when you weren’t with him, you were wanting to be with him. Doesn’t exactly bode well for the guy waiting backstage, hoping for a shot. But I figured if I hung around enough, you might get the idea. I didn’t realize I needed to hang a sign in front of you.”
“But, other girls…” I thought back to high school, back to all of the times I’d seen him over the years since we’d graduated. “You’re always with someone, Paul. Always.”
“Hey, I go out. Absolutely.” He played with the menu, folding it and unfolding it. “I dated a ton of girls. Dozens.”
For some reason, I flinched. I didn’t want him to quantify.
“But it’s only because I couldn’t find what I was looking for.” I looked at him and he offered me a smile. “I couldn’t find someone like you.”
“So you’re telling me that all this time, you’ve been hung up on me? The way I’ve been hung up on Chase?”
“Well, no.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I didn’t crash your wedding.”
“I’m not getting married.”
He chuckled. “Damn right, you’re not.”
“But, if I had been?”
“Let’s just say, I wouldn’t have thrown a shoe at you to get your attention.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “No. I would’ve thrown something heavier. Like an anvil.”
I couldn't stop the smile that bloomed.
And then something wet hit my nose. And another. I looked up at the sky. It was steel gray, balloon-like clouds threatening to burst.
“It’s gonna pour any second,” Paul said, grabbing me and pulling me up.
The skies opened and the downpour flooded us. I buried my face against his neck and breathed in. He smelled clean and warm, like spicy vanilla. His arms tightened around my waist.
I turned my head to look up at him. His lips were a fraction of an inch away. And, like usual, I didn’t think. I just stood on my tiptoes and touched my lips to his.
He didn’t taste like Chase and he didn’t kiss like Chase.
He kissed like Paul. Tender. Thorough. And infinitely better.
Reluctantly, I pulled away. My hair was plastered to my head and I was sure my mascara was running like a river down both cheeks.
Paul didn’t seem to care. He planted a kiss on top of my head.
“We should move inside,” he said. “You with me?”
I nodded and held out my hand.
“Yep. I’m with you.”
THE END
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Hi there :) Thanks for reading my "Match Me" Story. If you want my work you can also read "From Fame To Shame" and "How To Follow A Heart" :)
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