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Did he ever talk in declarative sentences? “I’ve been thinking about it, actually. Yeah. I might have a line on a male chaperone for you, too, if I can talk my best friend into it.”
“That’d be great. That’s…great.” He cleared his throat for a third time and I started to wonder if he was fighting a cold. “Maybe—do you think you’d want to get together after church for lunch or something, and I could talk to you about the trip?”
“It happens I like eating, so I’m not opposed. But don’t you have an email or something that you send out to people who want to help?”
“Oh. Sure. I can do that, too. But I’ve actually been trying to figure out a way to get to know you for a couple of weeks. Unless you think that’s weird and creepy. In which case, please forget I said anything.”
I laughed. But even as I did, I had a mental flash of Austin. And then I remembered his comments at Scott and Whitney’s wedding. I was his bestie. He didn’t see me as a woman. He definitely didn’t see me as someone with potential for more than friendship. Apparently, Luke did. Hanging out, wishing for Austin to clue in, wasn’t getting me anywhere. So, what the heck.
“It’s not creepy. It’s flattering. Lunch works. I’ll meet you in the foyer?”
“That sounds good. I have to stack chairs and stuff, so it might be fifteen, maybe twenty minutes after everything’s finished.”
“Why don’t I find my way to the youth room? I’ve been known to stack chairs.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
I smiled. “No. But I don’t mind. And then you finish up faster.”
“All right. Thanks. Um. Is there any particular kind of food you’d want to get? I sometimes swing by the diner across the street. It’s pretty good.”
Nope. No way. That was the diner Austin and the guys always went to. Megan, Whitney, and I had been going there a lot lately as well. “Have you been to La Casita?”
“No. It’s Mexican? I love Mexican, but I’ve yet to find a good place.”
Hadn’t he been in town close to a year? “It is. It’s a little mom-and-pop not too far from church. I can drive, if that makes it easier.”
“Okay.” He paused. “I guess I’ll see you Sunday.”
“I guess you will. Bye.” I ended the call with a grin and scooped Charles into my arms. “What about that, Chuck? I might have a date. Or, I could be misreading things and he just really wants to make sure I’m willing to be a chaperone.”
I frowned. That was possible, but seemed unlikely.
“Nah. I think it’s a date.” I gave him a brisk rub behind his ears and ignored the pang around my heart. Luke seemed nice enough. He got along well with the youth group kids. The handful of students who also went to our church seemed to like him. So why not?
It wasn’t as if Austin was ever going to notice me as anything other than his BFF.
Ugh.
“It’s fine. It’s good, even. Right, guys?” The cats didn’t answer me. They just turned their steady, knowing gazes in my direction.
If I couldn’t convince them, how was I going to convince myself?
* * *
I hadn’t mademuch progress by the time I hit lunch the next day. In fact, I’d been looking forward to seeing Austin more than usual. Was I just a glutton for punishment?
“Where are your students?” Austin strolled through the door to my office, plopped into a chair, and made himself at home. “You always have at least one hanging out to do extra work. Or get help.”
I shrugged. It was true. And I’d had three ask for that very thing, but the low-grade headache brewing at the back of my skull had pushed me into saying I needed to close things down for my break. “Yeah, well. Not today.”
Austin’s eyebrows lifted. “You okay?”
Great. Now I was being snippy. I was never snippy. I knew everyone considered me overly enthusiastic—those were generally their exact words. I preferred peppy, under most circumstances. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
I grunted. “Am I not allowed to have a bad day?”
