Date Me Like You Mean It

“Okayyy and…sent,” Aiden says before shutting his laptop and setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

I wave my hand for him to walk past me. “You first.”

He smirks and holds his hand out for me to go ahead. “After you.”

I tsk. “No no no, I insist.”

Then he shakes his head, takes a sip of his beer, and walks past me. “I swear you’re on something this week. What is it with you?”

“Can’t I just be nice to you without you thinking I’m on drugs?”

“No.”

I roll my eyes when his back is turned then make sure to have a peachy keen smile on my face by the time he glances back at me.

“The last time I tried to cut you in line to get food, you nearly stabbed my hand with a fork,” he points out, handing me a plate before getting one for himself.

Damn. Am I that impatient?

“Wow, I can’t believe I have such bad manners. I’m going to work on that. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

My voice holds no hint of sarcasm, only appreciative praise for his very good constructive feedback.

He starts to take food out of the bags so we can dish it out and heat up what’s gone cold.

“What should we watch tonight?” he asks after testing the green curry.

“I was thinking another episode of Alone. I just really want to see if that one guy worked out how to snare properly.”

Internally, I’m clawing my eyes out at the prospect of watching another episode of the survival show, but hopefully Aiden can’t tell.

“Up until recently, you made fun of that show. Now suddenly you’re addicted?”

“What can I say? The History Channel knows how to put out quality programming.”

I’m surprised I don’t swallow my tongue in the process of getting those words out.

He puts his plate down then and walks over until he’s right in front of me, no escaping. I back up to the island, and he follows.

“Okay, tell me what you want.”

“Want?”

“You’ve either had a lobotomy or you want something from me. Which is it?”

“I’m just being nice.”

His green eyes capture mine. “You’re nice, but not this nice. I couldn’t stand you if you were this nice. It’s like being roommates with a robot I created for my own pleasure.”

Crap. I overdid it. I thought I was toeing the line, but apparently, I majorly overstepped it.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” I say, using my real voice for the first time since I’ve been home. No more high-pitched politeness. “I have a favor to ask, and it’s kind of a big one.”

His gaze doesn’t waver, but he crosses his arms as if preparing himself for what’s to come.

“It would mean a lot to me, which is why you can’t say no,” I continue.

“Tell me what it is.”

“First you have to agree to do it.”

He grunts and moves around me to start filling his plate.

“My friend Stephanie wants me to go on a joint bachelor-bachelorette getaway,” I blurt out.

“Okay, I’ll hold down the fort. Is that all?”

“She wants you to come too.”

He laughs. “No can do. Work’s crazy right now, and besides, why would she want me there? I barely know her, and I’ve never met her fiancé. What’s his name again?”

“Elliot.”

“Right.”

“They invited you because…well…it’s a couples’ weekend.”

“So?”

He’s not catching on.

“So…you and me”—I wring out my hands—“there are two of us. Two people make a couple.”

He stops spooning rice onto his plate and glances over his shoulder at me.

“Maddie.”

“What?! We already lied to Elise about being a couple and that turned out okay! It’s just for a few days! Think of how much fun it’ll be to take a vacation!”

He doesn’t respond.

“I haven’t seen Stephanie in forever!” I add.

“So then you go.”

I want to drop the issue, but I can’t. Stephanie asked about Aiden again today, wanting to confirm that I’d passed along the invitation. She really wants us both there.

“What can I do to convince you?”

“I’m not going. You need to tell Stephanie the truth.”

I clasp my hands together, pleading with him. “Aiden.”

“No.”

“Please.”Chapter SevenMaddie“It should only be a few more miles,” I say, trying to sound chipper about it.

Aiden is driving. I’m doing the helpful task of fiddling with the radio dial in an attempt to keep my hands occupied. We’ve listened to every song on our road trip playlist—three times. Out here, in no man’s land, our radio antenna can’t pick up much of a signal, but it’s worth trying.

Songs jump in and out as I twist the knob. Static blares from the speakers, interrupted by sharp bursts of rap songs that fade out into pop choruses, followed by more static. Aiden puts his hand over mine to let me know he would really love if I stopped.

We pass another cluster of cacti, another bunch of yellow flowers, another curve in the road, and I can’t bear to look at him. When Stephanie told me we were going to a compound in West Texas, I figured we could make it there in no time. After all, isn’t Austin sort of in the middle of the state? Apparently, even having lived in Texas my whole life, I didn’t quite realize just how big this place is. We’ve been driving for six hours. We were supposed to be there by now.