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Harper held up her water glass. “Water is fine. Thanks.”
Jim slouched in his chair and scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those lame asses who don’t drink.”
“I drink, but I also have a bit of a drive ahead of me, and I’d rather stick to water.” She had a strict rule of one drink an hour, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to last that long.
“Suit yourself.” He picked up his menu and scanned it, making a face of disgust every few seconds.
Harper shifted in her seat, wondering why the hell she even agreed to go on this date. After being with Milo, she hadn’t really wanted to go out. She’d been content spending time with him and occasionally sleeping with him, but he’d been cranky and hadn’t touched her since he took her up against the refrigerator.
Heat pooled between her thighs at the memory, and she shifted in her seat in a sad attempt to squelch the warm sensation. She closed her eyes for a moment and refocused her thoughts. Tonight wasn’t about Milo; tonight was about Jim. She opened her eyes and focused on her date.
His brown hair was brushed off to the side and his brown eyes were dull unlike Milo’s. It baffled her how Milo’s dark eyes were so bright and filled with so much light.
Damn it.She did it again.
Jim. Focus on Jim.
“See anything you like?” she asked, hoping a kickstart to the conversation would turn this date around.
“They have lambchops, but they’re so easy to mess up and since I haven’t been here before, I’m not sure I want to take the chance.”
“I’d be afraid of upsetting Mary,” she joked.
His bushy eyebrows pinched above the straight line of his nose. “Who is Mary?”
“Mary had a little lamb.” Did she really have to explain her joke?
“You mean the nursery rhyme.”
She nodded.
With a perplexed look on his face, he stared at his menu. Milo would have laughed. She wouldn’t even have had to explain it to him either. He always understood her jokes, no matter how lame they were.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, he placed the menu on the table and crossed his hands on top. “I think I’ll give the lambchops a shot. For the price I hope they don’t screw them up.”
“I’m sure they’re great. I’ve read a lot of really good reviews for this place.”
“I never trust a review.”
“Why is that?”
He shook his head, his hair flopping to the side. “Any dope can put their opinion on the internet. Doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“An opinion doesn’t have to be right; that’s why it’s an opinion.”
“So why should I care what Jo Schmo has to say?”
She bit her tongue and inhaled deeply. It was time to change the subject. She wasn’t in the mood to start an argument with this guy about why people were entitled to their own opinion.
She had a list of topics to talk about on a first date all of which helped her get to know the person and find out who they really were. Though, she had a feeling she already knew who Jim was. Still, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. She plucked one of the talking points from her mind. “What do you like to do for fun?”
“I’m really into rage rooms.”
‘What’s a rage room?” she asked never hearing the term before. She rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her open palm.
“You basically go to a place, they give you a sledgehammer, and you break shit.”
Definitely not what she was expecting. “Oh. Okay that’s interesting. What made you go the first time?”
