The Player Hater (Accidentally in Love 1)

I nod regally (since he’s already stated this is not a marriage proposal). “Proceed.”

“We’ve done a few things out of order. Normally I wouldn’t sleep with a woman before buying her a dinner, having a nice drink, and getting to know her first. But in a way, we’d already kind of done those things at the campground.”

I stand perfectly still in the middle of the concrete walk.

This sure sounds like it’s leading up to something serious…

“That morning when I laid eyes on your sleeping, drooling face, I won’t lie—I thought you were adorable.”

Ew.

“…And when you loathed me upon sight, I thought it was, well—adorable.”

Ugh.

“The fish hook I could have lived without.” He brings a hand to his ear and tugs.

Hmm, still must be bothering him.

“The good news is, I grew on you...”

I mean—it wasn’t hard. Davis is a perfectly amenable, amazing human being. Who wouldn’t fall at least a little in like with him after a short while?

A fool, that’s who—and Juliet Robertson is no fool.

“…the same way you grew on me.”

Wait. What? He just said I was adorable!

Twice!

“Ha, I just wanted to see if you were listening.”

“Oh I’m listening alright. I’m a captive audience.” He has me hooked, needing to know what’s going to come out of his mouth next, thirsty for more.

“What I’m trying to say is, we got a little off track by doing the horizontal mambo before going on a romantic first date—banging one out does not count—but that doesn’t mean we can’t start over again. That’s what I want—to start over.”

Horizontal mambo.

Banging one out.

Start over.

“I think you’re spectacular even when you’re throwing up in the bushes. You’re funny and outgoing and sweet.”

Sweet? Outgoing? I’m not certain about that—sometimes I can be sweet, but I can also be a real, huge pain in the ass. Difficult, especially when I’m getting my period. Moody when I’m stressed out or when things aren’t going great at work.

However, now is not the time to squabble over details.

It’s cold and he’s being kind, wooing me on bended knee.

This is a first for me.

“I propose,” he winks. “That we officially begin dating. Like with the end goal of seeing how this could work…um, long term.”

I have no idea what to say. All I know is that I need him to rise and get up off the ground, so I can go up on my tiptoes and kiss him—kiss him as hard as we kissed in his kitchen the other night while I was painting on his eyebrow.

“Would you please stand up?” I’m growing impatient as he kneels there, the giant goof and his grand gesture.

“Okay, but you haven’t answered my question.”

“Did you ask a question?”

Davis shifts on his knee, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Juliet Robertson, would you do me the honor of dating me?”

I tap my chin in thought. “And where are we going on this first date of ours?”

“I don’t know—I was thinking we could do something fun, like crash a wedding?”

“Davis Halbrook, we are not crashing a wedding!”

“What if it’s our friends’ wedding?”

“Sure, that would be great, but that wedding isn’t for a few weeks and were you planning on waiting a few weeks to take me on a proper date?” I tap my heel on the concrete. It clicks in the evening air.

“Valid point.”

“How about we go to a movie?”

He considers this, still on the ground. “That would be fine if we could talk the entire time, which we can’t.”

Okay, so—no to the movies. Sheesh. “Dinner and bowling?”

That cheers him up. “You like to bowl?”

“No, but that’s the first thing that popped into my head when I opened my mouth.”

He finally stands, sliding him arms around my waist, making me feel cute and adorable and sexy. “I can watch you tiptoe down the lane and toss that big bowling ball.”

I eyeball him suspiciously. “Will you let me spray the finger holes with hand sanitizer?”

“Um, sure?”

That makes me happy. If I have to go bowling and look like a fool, at least I won’t have to stick my fingers into petri dishes.

“Great, then it’s settled, we have a date and we’re going bowling.”

We stand outside grinning like fools until a gust of wind billows my skirt and sends a freezing cold puff that causes me to shiver.

“Brrr.” I glance up at Davis through my lashes. “Do you want to come inside for a little bit?” Or longer? Overnight will work just fine, I don’t have to be up in the morning. “It’s getting so cold, I’m not sure how much longer I can stand out here and pretend not to freeze my ass off.”

“Sure, I could come in for a bit.”

Leading him inside through my modest doorway, into my modest entryway, and my modest little two bedroom home, I feel a twinge of self-consciousness. Yes, it’s my very own place but: