Ugh, I had to get it together. Get my head in the game. Tony was far from bad looking, actually. He had decent musculature… didn’t look like he skipped leg day or anything. Not that that’s something that I care about. Some of my brothers would have something to say if Tony’s physique was “uneven,” and I could already imagine the lectures. Cash would probably not shut up about overall fitness and functional movement and something that I didn’t care about joints. I would really rather not hear it.
He was handsome with thick brows and this dark, borderline emo or haunted-by-traumatic-past look going for him. He didn’t quite fit in with the other guys that I had dated so far, but then again my type was apparently men wearing an assortment of flashy red flags visible to everyone but me. So it might not even be a bad thing that he wasn’t quite my type.
I gestured to the empty chair across from me and even managed to plaster a smile on my face. See—I could do this. Everything was fine. All I needed to do was brush off the awfulness of the dates that came before.
Tony sat down, leaning back casually in his chair. He didn’t take his eyes off me once. His dark eyes burned with interest. I was just kinda wondering how rude it was that I wasn’t really staring back at him with hearts in my eyes, and was staring instead at the menu as if it held the keys to the universe—or in other words, hints as to what David was up to that would justify him suddenly not being here, at the restaurant… where he belonged.
Well, Tony certainly was more attentive than the dates before him. It was too bad that at this point, I was kinda burnt out.
Mateo dropped in and took Tony’s drink order—a whisky sour, made with Wild Turkey if they had it. I gave Mateo an awkward little half-wave and forced myself not to think about what I was going to do if David quit. Would Mateo know if hewere working somewhere else? Maybe he had a way to contact him? Why hadn’t I ever gotten David’s number?
Oh yeah, right. Because David and I weren’t dating or anything. He was just the man of my dreams that I had no chance with and couldn’t stop thinking about after he had flirted with me, exactly one time.
God, I was being pathetic.
“So tell me about yourself.” Tony asked, whisky glass in hand. He was swirling the alcohol around as if it were a glass of wine and he had to jiggle the flavor to look fancier or something.
Oh, he was asking me about myself.
Why didn’t I have an answer ready for him after all the dates I’d been on? Was this really the first guy to ask me to talk about myself?
Really?
“Well, I’m Avril Stryker. I grew up in a pretty big pack family, and I’m the only beta.” I shrugged.
“No, Gorgeous. I want to know aboutyou,” he shook his head slowly. “You. Not your family, or your designation. What are the things that make Avril Stryker tick? What do you like?”
My lips parted… he wanted to knowme?
Well… what do I say? Shit, don’t talk about the wedding.
But… so much of my life was wrapped up in the wedding right now. The venue, the flowers, perfecting the theme.
Outside of all the wedding preparations… who even was I?
I guess… I could talk about things that I liked about the wedding, just without mentioning the wedding stuff?
“I like… wisteria flowers. I like the way that they are so willowy and dramatic. The way they are vibrant and fill a room with life. I guess what I really like about them is the way such a simple flower can turn an everyday event into something magical.”
“Wisteria flowers, huh? Would you say that you are a girly girl?”
Yeah… the kind of girl in the stories that wasn’t like the other girls—that wasn’t me. I was the girl whowaslike the other girls. I liked girly things. Anything that sparkled, in pretty pastels, things that were sweet and beautiful. Also, wasn’t it inherently misogynistic for a girl to view herself as superior by rejecting aspects of femininity?
“I guess flowers might make me a girly girl.” But hey, was I wrong? It’s not like ugly things are intrinsically more valuable or something. Do people actuallylikeugly things? Who hates flowers? I mean there are all kinds of people out there. Some girls who are all edgy might say that bouquets are nothing but plant corpses or something, but obviously that wasn’t the norm.
“Why does it matter to you if I like flowers?” Wow, I probably shouldn’t have said that. I was spacing out and all over the place on this date. I needed to get my mind out of the David-gutter. Tony was actually being a decent date for once, asking me about myself and everything.
“Plenty of guys like to talk their asses off. I’ve heard some of my dates complain that they weren’t able to get a single word in. Well, that’s not going to be me. The whole point of this is that I am talking to someone lovely—to get to know them better. I want to learn everything there is to know about you, Avril.” Tony leaned in closer, as if cutting the distance between us would help him get closer to me emotionally, and I… I couldn’t help it. I blushed a little.
Okay. If I hadn’t ever met David… which honestly might have been a good thing for me, because meeting the perfect but unattainable guy was torture. It was even worse than getting offered Cashmere’s snickerdoodle cookies when I was on a diet… anyway if I hadn’t met David, I could easily see myself wanting Tony.
I let out a deep sigh. If only that sigh could let out all my desire for David as well.
It was fine. I was going to be fine.
It was time for me to move on.
Tony was pretty damn fine and attentive. He was here for me, and I didn’t notice a single red flag. Honestly, by now, every single other date I’d been on had already blown up at this point. Maybe… Tony’s just not like the other guys… maybe I was wrong about this whole dating thing and being hung up on dating the hot bartender I couldn’t have. It might be time to let my guard down and really give Tony a—
