Page 35 of Accidental Blind Date

“Why? I’m not a teenage girl and this isn’t a date.”

“I don’t care,” I say. And I don’t. “Also, I have to get an Uber back to my car.”

“Right.” Libby’s cheeks flush a little. I think she forgot how we got here, another sign that she shouldn’t be driving.

I round the car and open the passenger door. I even try to help as she juggles her purse, her keys that I have handed back to her, and her new houseplant. Of course, she doesn’t want any part of it. Libby stalks ahead of me, marching in her strappy sandals up the stairs to the main door.

“You can go,” she says, not bothering to look back at me as she fumbles with the code.

“Most people would say thank you?”

The code is denied, and she grunts before punching it in again even harder. “Thank you for making me feel like an idiot? Or thank you for trying to ruin my life?”

“Thank you for trying to be nice despite the circumstances.”

“Right,” she snaps as the code is yet again denied. She sets the plant down in frustration. “Fine. Thank–” she stops mid-sentence and spins around to face me. She’s not expecting me to be standing right behind her. I catch her so off guard that she runs into me and of course, I hold out a hard to steady her.

“You’re welcome,” I say. My voice is low. Unintentionally gravelly. Like there’s not enough air between for both of us.

For a moment, we are back in the cantina. The hot, thick air. The buzziness in our heads making our minds do crazy things. I can also taste the lime. Almost hear the music, covered with her laugh that dangles around the room like a string of Christmas lights.

My mouth opens slightly, slowly, and I’m not sure if I am going to say something…or do something. Libby’s chin tips ever so slightly up. And then, as we both realize what is about to happen, everything shuts off– the lights, the music, the mood.

“I should go,” she says, pulling away and punching in the number again, this time getting it right. The door unlocks and she grabs her plant and opens it. I head off the steps but stop when she calls back.

“Oh, and Dax?”

I turn around more eagerly than I intend.

“My business isnotcrashing into the ground. You may have a name and a lot of money behind it, but I have a face that people know and love and a heart that keeps them coming back. I’m not giving up.”

With that, she marches inside, and the door clicks behind her.

And the mood and the static and everything else is gone.

I nod, clicking my tongue and pulling out my phone to order an Uber. It comes within three minutes, thankfully. As I get in the car, my eyes catch movement up in the lit window. Libby is standing there, situating the tomato plant on the sill. Watching the car for all of two seconds before disappearing into the room.

I don’t know what I was thinking, getting caught up like that. I probably wasn’t thinking. And that cannot happen again.

Chapter 10

Libby

It isn’t until I am back in my own house, door locked, breathing air that smells like a salted caramel Yankee candle and not Dax’s exhales that I am able to relax. I lean against the door for a moment, shaking off the jitters, shaking off whatever the fuck just happened out there.

I am still buzzing but I am also feeling dead ass sober.

Who does he think he is anyways? Waltzing over like some knight in shining armor?

Oh, I’ll take your keys.

Oh, I’ll take you home.

You are far too intoxicated, Libby.

We got off on the wrong foot, Libby.

Blah, blah, blah.