"And now?" she asks quietly, shooting me a quick glance before putting her eyes back on the road.
"Now? I'm looking at the game a bit differently," I admit to her.
"Why is that?"
Her voice is so soothing, I absolutely want to capitulate to her. Rather than hide my feelings like I normally do, I want to tell her everything.
Well, almost everything. There are some things I'd never be able to share with her.
"Because you've made me look at things in a different light," I tell her, and her head spins to meet my look. She stares at me a moment longer than what's safe before she turns back to look at the road.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asks with a soft smile on her face. I have the unbearable urge to reach my fingertips out and trace them along her jaw but I resist. She'd probably slap me if I tried that.
"Good, I think. I'm still testing the waters, so to speak."
Sutton turns into a parking lot that houses a cheap strip mall. She pulls in front of an Indian cuisine restaurant and turns the car off. Turning to look at me, she says, "Whether you dip a toe in or jump in headfirst, I'm glad you're testing the waters. Experiencing new things, growing from that experience … I'm glad to see you trying that."
She looks at me with warmth and even a bit of understanding. Yes, she understands something about me when I'm not even sure I understand much. It's like she is wise beyond her years and I feel like she could threaten to crumble the very platform that I've built my entire knowledge of the world upon. It's a scary prospect, but one that I find challenging in a good way.
Taking my silence as a hint that the conversation is over, she turns briefly to look at the restaurant, then back to me. "I hope you like Indian."
I don't even spare the restaurant a glance. "Thank you … for taking the time to try to get to know me. And I think maybe for getting me when I'm not sure I even get myself."
She sucks in a small breath and her eyes go wide over my proclamation. Then she smiles at me, and it is filled with care and understanding. I want to fucking kiss her so bad, my chest aches, but it's not the time … it's not the place. I wonder if it ever will be.
"Come on, let's eat," I tell her as I open the passenger door and pour myself out of the little seat.
After we're seated in a booth and have placed our orders, Sutton turns all business on me, which is fine. After reading the binder of information she gave me, I'm actually feeling pretty excited about this project. Mainly because I'll be working in close proximity to Sutton, which is a schmucky thing to admit, but I'm also excited about the prospect of helping kids who may have suffered some of the same stuff I went through. Just being able to give them an outlet for help is beyond thrilling to me, because I always felt so trapped and helpless while I was growing up.
"Did you finish reading all of the materials?"
"Yup. And while I have no other programs to compare it to, the California program is very impressive. I'm not even sure we'd have to modify it that much, assuming all of the information about addiction is accurate. That's your expertise, though."
Sutton nods, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "It's all accurate, and while we wouldn't use their material verbatim, we can definitely follow the outline of the program. I've got all of the necessary materials we can convert over that have been produced by our crisis center."
"What do you want my role to be?"
"Well, you are the spokesperson, so most of your work will come on the back end when we start traveling to schools and events, but I'd still love to have your input while I put the program together. As I draft the materials, I could forward them to you for review, and we'll need you to do some photo shoots for the brochures and pamphlets, videos … that sort of thing."
"Will you go out to dinner with me tonight?" I ask, the words popping out of my mouth so suddenly, I have no clue where they came from. Clearly my subconscious decided to overtake my sensibility and make itself known.
Sutton's eyes go round and her lips part in surprise. Fuck … I'm completely surprised myself that I just asked that.
"As in a date?" she asks carefully. "Or to work on this program further?"
"As in a date," I tell her while looking her levelly in the eye. "Of course, we can talk more about this if you want, but I'm asking you out on a date."
Sutton's eyes fall to the table and she fiddles nervously with her fork. She sucks her bottom lip in between her teeth and her eyebrows scrunch with consternation. I wait patiently for her to answer me.
When she looks back up, she doesn't surprise me at all when she says, "Should we be crossing that line? The one that splits the professional from the personal?"