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“Wine is good for me.” Another smile was sent his way as she went about filling his glass with ruby red liquid. “Thanks, darlin’. Now eat up before it gets cold.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice!”
Like the other times they’d hung out, conversation flowed easily, despite the crackle. During dinner she told him about the big project she’d been working on and in turn, he spoke more about his own work. Unsurprisingly, she had a lot of questions. It was one of the things he liked most about her. Her unfiltered curiosity.
Time flew by. It wasn’t until his phone vibrated with a message from Cody that he realized just how much. Three hours they’d been sitting there. Empty plates abandoned and wine glasses drained. He hadn’t even asked the question he’d been dying to ask yet.
There’s no time like the present.
“Why don’t you date?” he blurted.
Smooth.
Of course she was shocked. His question had been right out of left field. They’d been talking about forest fires, for God’s sake.
“Uh, do you want some more wine? I’m gonna get some more wine.” Libby scrambled up out of her chair so fast, if he’d blinked, he would have missed it.
Damnit. He’d spooked her. But there was no taking the question back now. It was out there. Begging to be answered.
He cleared his throat. Was it just him or did the air all of a sudden feel thicker? “No more for me, I’m driving.” He paused, waiting for Libby to refill her glass before he tried again. “So? The no dating thing?”
Libby didn’t hide her discomfort. But she did finally sit back down. Her gaze was averted, and she’d already started fidgeting. “Uh, well, it’s sort of a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“I’ll bet.” A swig of her drink later, piercing eyes eventually met his. “I move around a lot, okay? I’ve always moved around a lot. I don’t exactly have a dating-friendly lifestyle.”
“True. But that’s not the reason you don’t date.”
He already knew he’d assumed correctly. But her deflated sigh confirmed it. “Fine. But it’s a factor. Kind of.”
“Well?”
“Well ... I guess I’m a non-believer, okay?”
“A non-believer?” What the hell does that mean?
“Yeah. A non-believer. I’m one of those people that don’t believe in ‘happily ever after’. It’s all just such bullshit. And before you start listing off all the happy couples you know who’ve been together for fifty years or something, let me clarify by saying that, yes, ever after does exist – I’m guessing probably out of a mixture of stubbornness and lethargy – but that doesn’t mean they’re happy. Like truly, Disney, singing critters happy.”
What?
Instinctively, Zach's hand went to his chest, where he began to rub. Why did hearing that sting so much?
“So that’s it?” he began. “’Cause there’re no singing critters running around, you’ve shunned the whole dating thing? Have you ever dated? Had a relationship of any kind? Or is this all observation-based research?”
“You seem kinda angry.”
If only she knew how hard his heart was pounding against his ribcage.
“Not angry, just confused. I mean, you can’t write off relationships if you’ve never had one.” He was guessing she hadn’t. Not a healthy one, anyway. “You can’t assume to know what’s going on in other people’s relationships, either. Just ‘cause things might get hard, doesn’t automatically mean a couple is unhappy. That’s just life. I don’t know ... it just seems a little extreme to me, that’s all.”
He added that last bit with a shrug in an attempt to temper some of his frustration. And disappointment.
As soon as he was done, he lost Libby’s gaze. Instead, she decided to take an active interest in swiping off imaginary lint from her yoga pants.
Clearly, he was taking this hard because he wanted to date her. As far as hurdles go, her not believing in dating, or in relationships in general was a pretty freaking massive one.
What were you expecting?
