“Feel like what?”
He rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “I just don’t know what I’m doing.”
Her eyes widened. “Like with me?”
“Yeah. I mean, no,” he said quickly. “No, not withyou.You’re awesome. Iloveyou, it’s— Holy shit, I didn’t mean that. I mean, not that I don’t mean that, I mean—” He threw his hands over his face and groaned.
She managed to keep a straight face in spite of how terribly endearing she found his flustered behavior.
He’s just not very good at this,she reminded herself.
“I’m just an idiot, obviously,” he concluded. “But I’m an idiot who likes you and I’m glad I met you and I enjoyed hanging out with you today and last night. And I’m sorry for my idiot-like behavior.”
Then she couldn’t help giggling. “I have seen no idiot-like behavior.”
“Well, trust me, it’s been there.”
He slipped his arms around her waist, spun her around so her back was flat against the car, and his chest was pressed against hers.
“So,” he began, switching gears. “It’s about a seven-hour drive to the park, and then about a four-hour hike to something I’m dying to show you. That means I’m going to pick you up at six a.m. on Thursday.”
She dropped her head backward and laughed. “Oh,man,that’s early.”
He planted his lips on her neck. “Can you handle it, Samantha?”
She picked her head back up and shot him a coy little smile. “Is that supposed to be innuendo?”
He tilted his head. “Hmm… Yes.”
She laughed again and placed her hands on his cheeks, pausing briefly to take in the sight of his pretty, green eyes, and then met his lips with hers. She pulled away and grinned at him.
“Yes, I can handle it,” she answered. “I’m looking forward to it. And I’m looking forward to seeing you again. This weekend has been great.”
He pecked her cheek. “It has been great.”
He released her waist and opened the door, kissing her one more time before she stepped inside.
“I’ll call you this week,” he offered.
She flicked her fingers in a small wave as he closed the door. She adjusted the rearview mirror so she could watch him cross the parking lot to his car and exhaled a long sigh.
“He said he loves me,” she said to herself.
He didn’t mean it like that, you crazy girl.
But it was nice to pretend anyway.
Chapter Eight
Nick
The chaos of preparing for Annabelle Driscoll’s Wednesday reservation was a welcome distraction for Nick. He just felt so weird.
He knew it was partially guilt for sort of lying to Samantha. Well, not sort of. Hehadactually lied to her the two times she’d asked if he’d done that before. And then the small lie of omission at lunch on Sunday, which felt less bad, but bad nonetheless.
But it wasn’t like he was in a serious thing with her, and he didn’t plan to be—and that was the other part of it.
He hadn’t spent this much time with the same girl since his meager attempts to date in college, and—despite what he’d been telling Chase—Samantha was kind of getting to him.
