Page 24

DAMON

I pull up to the curb outside Hyde Hall, knowing full well this is also Avery’s dormitory. Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I wonder what she’s doing at this very moment. Is she inside, or is she out with friends? Is she eating a late dinner, studying, out at the bar?

Pissed I’m even thinking about her, I rake a hand through my hair and growl as I shove the thought aside.

It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. The whole point of this date is to get over her and be invested in someone else. The last thing I should be thinking about as I pick up my date is her.

I hesitate a moment longer while the car idles, glancing at the clock on the dash—seven-fifteen p.m. Right on time, considering we’re supposed to meet Travis, my friend from the AAU soccer team, at the bowling alley by seven-thirty.

So, why is my stomach tied in knots? I’m going out with Liz.

Sweet and smart and attractive Liz. Even if she isn’t my type, I know enough about her to know she’s a catch.

All I need to do is look at her in a new light, as a possibility instead of a placeholder for someone I can’t seem to forget.

But no matter how many times I tell myself that, Avery’s name still echoes louder in my head than Liz’s ever could.

“I’m being ridiculous,” I mutter to myself.

With a shake of the head, I snatch my phone off the center console and shoot Liz a text, letting her know that I’m here. After explaining, without going into detail, that my ex, who I’d like to avoid, lives here, she kindly offered to meet me at my car.

When her answering text comes through telling me that she’ll be right out, the knot in my stomach tightens.

Exhaling, I glance at my reflection in the rearview mirror.

My hair is carefully styled, and the green button-down I’m wearing isn’t too wrinkled.

I drop my chin and give myself a cursory sniff, ensuring my brief shower after practice wasn’t too brief.

Thankfully, I smell good, and my expression is . . . neutral, I decide.

Good. This is good.

The passenger door opens with a squeak, and I jerk with a start, turning to find Liz, climbing into the passenger side of my pickup.

She’s all smiles, and I blink, my gaze flickering over the oversized, shapeless sweatsuit she’s wearing.

I’m all for chicks in casual clothes, but this is not the cute kind of look a girl might wear to the gym or to run some errands.

No, this is full-on, couch-dwelling, I’m-sick-and-I-hate-everything-and-everyone-so-I’m-going-to-binge-watch-Netflix energy.

Even her normally lustrous, mahogany locks are thrown back into a lopsided bun, the purple streak prominent on the top of her head like a tiger stripe.

I swallow when I realize I’ve been staring. “Uh, hey.”

“Hi,” she says, sounding like she’d rather be on her deathbed.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a real date, forever since I’ve tried to impress a girl, but I’m pretty sure this is where I say something nice about her appearance. “Um, you look . . .” I trail off, searching for a compliment in a sea of baggy fleece.

In her hands, she clutches a metal water bottle like it’s the only thing tethering her to this planet. “Thirsty?” I ask, and promptly wince.

Liz barks out a laugh and nods, then takes a healthy sip from the bottle. “Gotta stay hydrated,” she says, punctuating it with a snap of the lid.

I narrow my eyes, trying to think of a time I’ve ever seen dressed like this. “Did you just get back from the gym or something?” I say, hoping it’s true.

I didn’t realize Liz worked out. Maybe she’s a gym rat. Maybe we’ll have something in common after all.

“No.” She shakes her head with a little shrug, and I realize I just gave her a backhanded compliment. “I’m not one for physical exertion,” she adds.

Shit.

“Right.” I nod, like I understand, and wait until Liz snaps her seatbelt into place before I pull out. “Are you ready for this?”

“Sure,” she says, her tone flat, leaving me to wonder if the girls had to twist her arm to come on this date.

How embarrassing.

“So . . .” I say as I navigate onto the main road, trying to think of something to jump-start the conversation since I’ve already fucked up. “First dates are the worst, am I right?” I say, realizing too late how bad it sounds. “I just mean, they’re nerve-racking, right?”

Liz shrugs, staring aimlessly out her window. “I’m filled with dread, if that’s what you mean.”

My grip tightens on the wheel, my knuckles white as I take the ramp to the highway and try to come up with a response. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

“Would you rather I not be?” she asks, glancing at me now.

“No.” I shake my head. “No, honesty is good. And in full transparency, I’m not even sure why I agreed to this.” I lift one shoulder. “The boys thought it would be good for me. That if I can find someone I’m interested in, it’ll help me move on.”

“From an ex?” Liz asks. Her tone is light, but her gaze is sharp, and I wonder if she knows something, or if she’s simply pissed that I referred to my ex five minutes into our date.

I shoot her a nervous glance before turning my attention back to the road.

Fuck, this is awkward.

“Yeah. Stupid, huh?”

She smiles. “Very.”

I bark out a laugh. The girl isn’t holding any punches.

Silence settles in the cab of my truck while I struggle to come up with something to say that won’t result in a dead-end, but she just keeps sipping from her water bottle like she’s trying to set a world record in hydration, while my mind draws a blank.

I’ve been around Liz at least a dozen times before now, and while I’ve never spent any time with her alone, we’ve shared drinks at the bar and danced in a group together at Bradd’s.

I have to admit, never before have any of our interactions been even half as awkward as this one.

It’s almost like her silence is calculated.

Like she’s choosing to be obstinate, purposely saying as little as possible, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

The only reason I can think of is the girls had to coerce her into coming.

When I come to a stop at a red light, I sneak a glance at her.

The sweatsuit has some kind of faded logo on it, maybe from a summer camp or a high school club?

I wouldn’t be surprised if it belonged to an ex or an older brother.

It swallows her small frame, turning her into some amorphous blob of cotton.

Which is a shame, because beneath all that baggy material, she has a nice figure.

But right now? Right now, this girl looks as though she’s doing everything in her power not to be noticed.

The light turns green, and I ease back on the gas. I’m still trying to get a read on her, which is difficult since she’s giving me nothing to go on.

“So, are you into bowling?” I ask, trying to aim for something neutral. Safe. Something that’s unlikely to end in a backhanded insult, either on her account or mine.

“I’m indifferent,” she says, with all the enthusiasm of someone reading nutritional facts off a cereal box.

“Cool,” I say, barely containing the laugh that threatens to spill from my lips. I may be a little rusty in the dating department?okay, a lot rusty?but this is ridiculous.

Still, I’m not ready to give up. Maybe she’s just nervous.

I think the girls mentioned she can be shy with guys.

Maybe that’s what this is. Or maybe she’s tired.

Coming down with a cold. Allergic to small talk.

It happens. I mean, hell, I’m not exactly the poster boy for first-date energy, either.

Look at me, still wrestling with the ghost of Avery clinging to every corner of my mind, so much so that I can’t go five minutes without mentioning or thinking about her.

Avery.

My thoughts drift to her angelic features as we pull into the parking lot of the bowling alley, and the knot in my stomach tightens, rising into my chest.

I hate that even her name?just thinking it?still holds so much power over me. That I can still hear her laugh in the back of my mind when certain songs come on, or that these last couple of weeks, I catch myself looking for her all over campus without realizing it.

Inhaling through my nose, I remind myself to focus.

This isn’t about her. This is about moving on.

Moving forward with someone new. Even if that someone looks like she just rolled out of bed with the bedside manner of someone who worked three double shifts, just found out she’s out of coffee, and is actively trying to make me question my life choices.

I park and kill the engine, then turn to her, but she makes no move to unbuckle her seatbelt.

I clear my throat as my gaze settles over her. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” she says, finally meeting my eyes and flashing me a plastic smile. “Let’s do this thing.”

I nod, and we climb out of the car, making our way to the entrance in silence.

Inside, the fluorescent lights buzz overhead, amid the thumping of music crackling through the speakers.

Sweat, beer, and stale popcorn scent the air in a stomach-churning combination, making me wish for a drink, something to get me through the next couple hours.

Glancing down at my phone to my messages, I see one from Travis, letting me know he’s here with his date and waiting for us.

“They’re supposed to be by the shoe rentals,” I say as I lift my head and scan the lobby, finding the counter easily.

“Over there.” I motion toward it and take her hand, half expecting her to cringe or pull away.

When she doesn’t, I consider it a victory. Maybe there’s hope?

The thought fissures. My steps falter.

“No,” I murmur, stopping in my tracks.

Standing beside Travis is Avery, looking as beautiful as ever—effortless in her sophistication, wearing a sleek black sweaterdress and heeled boots, blonde curls spilling over her shoulders, and completely unaware of the chaos she still manages to stir inside my chest.

“Damon!” Trav calls, waving me forward, completely oblivious to the way the girl beside him just wrecked me with a single glance.

Avery turns at the sound of my name, and the moment our eyes lock, it’s like the air gets sucked out of the room. Her smile falters, just barely, but I catch it. Suddenly, this night feels a hell of a lot longer than I signed up for.

“Is there a problem?” Beside me, Liz stares at the side of my face, a crease of concern between her brow. It’s the first real show of emotion I’ve seen from her since I picked her up.

I swallow, heart thudding like a war drum in my chest while the sight of Avery short-circuits every rational thought I came here with.

I feel like I’m dreaming—or maybe I’m being pranked?because I know for a fact I told Chris and the guys that Avery was not to be on this date.

He promised.

He swore.

My left hand flexes, curling into a fist.

I’m going to fucking kill him.

Beside me, Liz clears her throat, and I realize I’m still standing there, staring like an asshole.

I turn toward her where her gaze flickers quickly between me and Avery with a knowing look.

“Did you know?” I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Know what?”

I nod toward Avery, who’s now awkwardly adjusting her purse strap and pretending to study the bowling shoes behind the counter. “That Avery’s my ex.”

Liz follows my gaze like she’s just now putting it together. “Oh. Wow. That’s . . . wild,” she says with a touch too much enthusiasm.

Wild?

I narrow my gaze as something twists in my gut, looking at Liz again with new eyes. The way she’s dressed. How she’s acted since I picked her up. Like she couldn’t care less about being on this date. The complete and utter lack of effort on her part. I wonder . . .? Is it possible . . .?

Exhaling, Liz shifts on her feet, giving my hand a little squeeze.

“What I mean is, I’d understand if you wanted to leave, but we’re here now, and it would be sort of awkward to go.

Maybe we should stay and make the most of it?

” She winces like she’s worried she’s not coming off right, and adds, “I’d really like to continue this date with you. ”

It’s the first nice thing she’s said, and I’m not sure what to make of it when Travis steps into my personal space, slapping my hand and offering me knuckles.

“Hey, man! We just got here,” he says beaming.

“This is my date, Avery,” he says, motioning to the girl beside him, avoiding my gaze.

“Avery, this is Damon and . . .” He turns to Liz who smiles widely as I wait for her reaction.

“I’m Liz,” she says, giving him a little wave before reaching out and shaking Avery’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Avery.”

“You, too.” Avery rocks back on her heels, finally turning her eyes back to mine as the prickling of suspicion fades.

Of course, Liz had nothing to do with this. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, and she certainly doesn’t strike me as a liar or a manipulator. Which means Chris fucked this up and failed to warn the girls that Avery is my ex and not to send her on the double date.

My nostrils flare, and I fight the urge to turn around and drive all the way back to the athlete apartments just so I can beat his ass.

The only thing stopping me is the girl beside me.

She seemed genuine when she asked me to stay and give this a shot, and the last thing I want to do is ditch her in front of Avery and Travis.

Besides, I promised to give this whole dating thing a shot, and even though everything inside of me revolts at the idea, I owe it to myself?to the team?to try.

I force a breath through my nose, clenching my jaw as I step forward and take Liz’s hand in mine, wishing for a spark but there’s none.

My smile is tight, practiced, as I allow Liz to tug me toward the counter, all while pretending I don’t still feel Avery’s eyes on my back .

. . or the ache in my chest that secretly wishes we were the only two here.