“Aren’t you proud of me?” She bounces in her seat. “He even asked me if I wanted to hang out. Like…together.”
The base of my throat feels tight as I nod, carving out a smile. “Of course I’m proud of you. You’re ready to date then.”
“Um, no, I don’t think so. Not yet. I mean after he asked that, I just kind of squeaked and ran away because I was freaking out. Maybe a trial run first.”
“All right then, let’s go on a fake date. Put everything you’ve learned to the test.” I shrug, hiding the fact that I hate her being successful in getting another bloke’s number. But this is what she’s wanted all along. This is what she’s worked for. I should be happier for her. “Then you’ll know if you’re ready. This is the final exam, St. James.”
CHAPTER 16
Rory
Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Dad says, handing me a red heart-shaped box of my favorite chocolate truffles and a fluffy, oversized teddy bear that’s nearly as big as I am.
I smile, stroking my fingers over the soft fur of the teddy bear. “Thanks, Dad.”
Our annual Valentine’s dinner is tradition, and thankfully it means that the girl who’s hopeless at relationships doesn’t have to spend the day alone. But as much as I love our traditions, I truly want him to find someone to share his life with. He deserves it, more than anyone, especially after what my mom put him through.
Imagine being barely a kid yourself and becoming a single dad to a toddler because your wife decides that she isn’t ready to be a mother.
Ever since then, it’s just been the two of us, and I love being a daddy’s girl. I love that we have such a close relationship, and he wants to spend time together.
“But you do know that you don’t have to spend your Valentine’s Day with me every year, right?” I say as I place the chocolate and teddy bear next to me on his kitchen island, then hop up onto the granite countertop, watching as he walks over to the stove and turns the burner on. “I’m totally fine alone, sitting on my couch watching TV and eating a gallon of ice cream. Enjoying my new apartment.”
He whistles, eyes widening. “A gallon, Ror? Seems like a lot of sugar at once.” When I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, biting back a smirk, he shrugs. “You know there’s no one else I’d rather spend time with than my favorite girl. Plus, it’s tradition.”
And what he really means is that he’s too afraid to put himself back out there and start dating again even though I’m in college and no longer live at home.
“I love our Valentine’s dinner. But…” I trail off.
“But what?”
“But… I think you need to put yourself back in the dating game. Meet someone. Get out of the house and have fun.”
Maybe I’m projecting a little bit about my own life, you know since I’ve officially secured a phone number and these lessons from Cillian are actually making a difference.
It feels good. And I just want the same thing for him.
Dad shakes his head and tears his gaze away, avoiding the topic as usual and busying himself with mixing the pancake batter in a bowl. “And the last time we talked about this we said that my daughter wasn’t going to play matchmaker and would stay out of my dating life, remember?”
I let out a long sigh. That’s indeed what we said, but I’m nothingif not persistent. “Fine. But for the record, I think that you should. No risk, no reward, remember?” I repeat the saying he’s told me since I was a kid, and he eyes me for a moment before going back to the mixing.
The only thing I want is for him to be happy. That’s what matters to me, and I just think he’s a little… lonely is all. Even if he doesn’t want to date, meeting new people outside of Prescott would be good for him.
If I can do it, then I know he can.
“Anyways, tell me about your week. How are your classes going?” he asks, pouring a round circle of batter into the pan. Our Valentine’s Day dinner tradition has always been pancakes and bacon. Then we watch our favorite movie together, and I usually fall asleep before it’s halfway through. Sometimes we switch it up and watchFool’s Goldinstead. You know, just to be spontaneous.
Only this day is slightly different because I’m distracted by thoughts of Cillian, and I know that’s the last person I should be thinking of. But I haven’t stopped thinking about him since the whole dress fiasco and the bar the other night.
Even though I’ve tried. An exorbitant amount of times.
I keep thinking about the way his fingers felt along my heated skin, or the way my heart seemed to beat out of my chest when I stood so close to him.
How his thick, dark lashes kissed his cheeks before he dragged his gaze up to mine, his pupils blown and darkened with what felt like lust.
How, in my slightly drunken haze, I moved against him. I thought I felt him hard and pressing against me as we danced, but I’d had a lot to drink.
These thoughts were all-consuming and… confusing.
