The Introvert's Guide to Speed Dating (The Introvert's Guide 2)

She was an inherently good person.

London opened the door with that same beaming smile still on her face. “Hi. Come on in.”

“Thanks. I brought cupcakes.” I held the box up somewhat awkwardly. “Since you were bringing sandwiches, I thought I’d bring dessert.”

“Ooh, and you went to see Piper! Her cupcakes are the best.” She closed the door behind me and led me to the table. “Take a seat. Let’s eat, then we’ll talk after. Do you mind if I record it?”

“Video? Or just voice?”

“Just voice.” She tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and smiled, this time almost shyly. “I’ll take notes as we talk, but sometimes I miss things or I need to clarify points, so the recording helps.”

“Not a problem.” I sat down a couple of chairs away from her.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made a few different sandwiches.” She rummaged through a picnic cool bag and pulled out several foil-wrapped subs. “There’s tuna and cucumber, cheese and tomato, ham…”

“Tuna’s great,” I said, fighting back a grin. “You could have asked.”

“I know, but by the time I realized I hadn’t asked you, it was too late.” She shrugged and handed me one that had a fish drawn on top in green pen.

“You’re quite the artist.”

London’s cheeks flushed. “I forgot what the tuna was called and all I could find was Leo’s pens.”

“You forgot what tuna was called?”

“Have you ever tried to use your brain while arguing with a small person?”

“At least once a week.”

“Good for you. This morning, I had a debate over whether Leo needed to use toothpaste or if water was adequate to clean his teeth.”

“Did you win?”

“Of course I won. One, I’m a woman, and two, I’m in charge.”

I laughed, unwrapping the sandwich. “Both very valid points.”

“Thank you. I thought so.” She unwrapped her own that was just plain ham. “Do you mind if I just finish this email while we eat?”

“You go ahead.”

“Thanks.” She typed with an impressive speed. She wasn’t even looking at the keys, but I guessed she was so used to typing that she didn’t need to. It would probably take her longer if she did look.

I pulled up the sports news on my phone while we ate. It was a weirdly comfortable silence between us, with the only noise that of her tapping her nails against the keys as she wrote.

“Okay, done. Whenever you’re ready.”

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and peered over at her. “Ready when you are.”

“Okay.” She set her phone between us, plugged it into the cable attached to the laptop, and swiped at the screen, tapping a big red button on an app I didn’t recognize. “Dictation app,” she said quietly. “It’ll also transcribe the conversation for me so I have numerous points of reference.”

“Smart,” I agreed.

“Okay, let’s get started. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me today—I really appreciate it. You’re one of the most popular coaches at the center with both kids and women alike.”

I almost choked on a laugh. “Thank you for taking the time to invite me. As for the last part, I can’t say I’ve noticed.”

She grinned. “Well, if it helps, I think most single women in the town have a betting pool on who’s going to go out with you first. Although they’re probably not fans of me telling you that.”

“Duly noted. What’s the bet for you so you can win?”

She blushed again. “I’m not a part of it, sadly, but I don’t turn down free food if you’re offering.”

I laughed and motioned to the cupcakes.

“Let’s get started. You are, obviously, British. Can I ask you about your life back in England and what led you to end up here in White Peak?”

Bloody hell.

How long did we have?

“I grew up in a small town in the south of England about an hour from London. My dad worked for one of the major Premier League teams as their team doctor, so I was invested in football from an early age. Unfortunately, an injury in an academy game cut my career short, so I decided to go into coaching. I initially came over on a short work visa, but when my contract got extended, I decided to stay longer.”

“You were in New York, right?”

“That’s correct. I grew up in the countryside and struggled with the fast pace, so when Dylan called me and said he had a job for me here, it was a no brainer. I was about to quit and go home anyway, so I had nothing to lose by moving.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your injury. That must have been hard.”

“It was extremely hard for sixteen-year-old me. I could have continued playing, but the chances of me getting injured again and messing my ankle up for good were too big to risk.”