Page 40 of Falling Back to You

Flyers was the best wing joint in the city. If I came to Nashville for one reason, it was for their saucy wings. It was almost eight, so the place was quiet. Just a few teens studying in the back corner and what appeared to be a first date at one of the tables, given the awkward glances being exchanged. Wings on a first date is a bold move. Solidarity, brother.

A server escorted me to a private side room where a woman was already waiting at the table, doing some sort of origami with her napkin.

“Hey, there,” I said with an easy smile. Nerves? Never heard of those.

The woman’s head bobbed up like a groundhog, and I almost laughed. Until I recognized her.

“Hailey?” I stared aghast at the curly-haired pixie with hazel eyes and a small beauty mark on her right cheek.

“Cal?” She blinked rapidly like she was trying to clear her vision. Then she cackled so hard it would have made Ursula from The Little Mermaid proud. “Oh, this is too perfect!”

I shifted, gripping the back of my chair but not sitting down. She found this amusing? “Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re friends.”

She snorted. “Thanks for letting me down easy.”

Shoot. “I meant—”

“Relax”—she held up her hand—“I’m not reading into this. Jules said she had a friend who wanted to ease back into the dating pool on a practice date. We don’t have to make this weird. Besides, I’m on a man ban, and I broke that for you, so you’re welcome.”

“Man ban?” Was this some sort of younger generational slang? Just how old was I? How old was she, now that I thought about it? Twenty-four or twenty-five, maybe? That was at least a seven-year age gap.

She smirked, clearly reading my confusion. “I’ve dated a string of duds, so I’m off the dating wagon for a while. Be glad I don’t consider you one.”

“So I’m a pity date?” That was not doing great things for my ego.

Hailey twirled a breadstick before pointing it at me like a mini sword. “No pity from me, mister. Now sit and tell me about that adorable munchkin of yours. Did she like the sequined boots I sent?”

I groaned, dropping down into a chair. “You are the sole reason behind my recurring nightmares about sequins.”

Hailey clasped a hand to her heart. “Do not desecrate the masterpiece of shiny objects.”

We ordered our wings, and surprisingly, conversation followed easily. She was a great conversationalist, equal parts funny and charming. It was easy to see how she’d acquired the moniker of America’s Sweetheart, especially with barbeque sauce currently smudged on the tip of her nose. She was cute. But despite the dark curls and hazel eyes right in front of me, blonde hair and chocolate eyes haunted me.

“Can I drive you home?” I asked after I paid.

Hailey smiled as she slid on her plaid jacket. “That’s kind of you, but I’m a ways out. How about you drive us to your hotel, and I’ll take it from there?”

“I can grab a rideshare—”

She waved me off. “Don’t bother. How are we doing this? If we both go out there, tongues will wag.”

Unfortunately she wasn’t wrong. It was times like this that I hated being a public figure. I couldn’t even leave a restaurant without a battle strategy. “Want me to pull your car out front so you can make a run for it?”

“I like the way you think.” She dug around in her leather-tasseled purse, muttering, “Where are you?”

“What are you driving these days?” I asked, shoving my hands in my jean pockets.

“Uh . . . a car? Oh, here—no, that’s not it.”

“What kind?”

She scrunched her nose in thought, not unlike how Khia would. “Well, it’s blue, and it has a dent in the fender. It’s Nana’s old one. Nash and Steph drove it out to me last month.”

My lips twitched. “Make, model?”

“Nissan? Nassau? Ah, here!” She dangled the keys in front of me.

I took one look at the key fob and burst into laughter. “It’s a Toyota, Hails.”