"Are you any good?"
I released a breathy laugh. "I'm decent."
"You're better than decent," he challenged.
"Why would you say that?" I questioned, my cheeks peaking in color.
"You laughed, so you're not comfortable talking about yourself, meaning you're probably really good."
I shrugged, my cheeks igniting as I adjusted my position in the chair. His ability to read me like a book was a bit disarming.
"Okay, let's put it this way. What would the papers say about you?"
"Umm … I guess they'd say that I'm the co-captain and point guard of the first place team in our division. That I average twenty points a game and was All-American last season."
"That's impressive," he admired with a slow nod. I shrugged sheepishly.
"What about you? Did you play any sports?" I was pretty certain I already knew the answer.
The server arrived, placing our plates in front of us.
"Is there anything else I can get for you?" she asked Jonathan.
"Emma, do you need anything?" He purposely diverted her attention to me.
"No, I'm fine," I answered, trying to keep from smiling. She walked away with her shoulders slumped.
"What were we talking about?"
"What sports you played," I reminded him.
"I played football."
I nodded, pretty much predicting it based on his thick neck and broad muscular build.
"Don't nod like that," he shot back, "like you knew I was going to say that."
"Well, come on," I rebutted, "look at you." He rolled his eyes. "Fine." I continued, "What would the papers say about you?"
"The papers wouldn't mention me at all; I spent most of my time on the bench."
I laughed. "Really?"
"You don't have to laugh," he feigned offense. "I was second string receiver. I just wasn't as good as the starter." He paused before blurting, "Okay, fine, I sucked. I couldn't hold on to the ball to save my life."
I laughed again.
"But I swam. Still do when I can."
"Would the papers mention that?"
"I guess they would," he admitted modestly. "I swam on the team at Penn State. It helped pay for my tuition."
"So you were really good, huh?" I noted, impressed.
He shrugged with one shoulder.
"Wait, I thought modeling helped with your tuition?" I grinned.
"Yeah, that was a onetime thing, and it really didn't pay that much."
I nodded, taunting him with a smirk on my face.
"Shouldn't have told you that, huh?"
"Sorry," I laughed. "I just think it's funny that you're immune―"
"Hi," my mother greeted excitedly before I could finish. Jonathan stood up to greet her with a hug and kiss―which made me suddenly interested in the food on my plate. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she was dating, and I wasn't quite ready to handle seeing it. I knew I needed to get over it... fast. Especially when she sat down with us and kept a hold of his hand throughout dessert, dominating the conversation in her nervous rush.
I watched as Jonathan hung on to her every word, every so often calming her enough so she actually sounded coherent.
It was evident that she was enthralled with him and he really cared for her. By the time we were ready to leave, I was... okay. She was happy. And that was all that mattered.
I pulled out my phone to check the time. "Um, I have to go," I said, interrupting my mother's story about the time she accidentally uploaded a YouTube video of singing cats for a presentation. "Thank you for dinner."
"What do you mean?" she questioned, sounding slightly disappointed.
"Evan's supposed to be meeting me at the house in twenty minutes."
"Do you want to come back to the house?" she asked Jonathan, completely taking me by surprise.
"Sure," Jonathan responded, signing the check.
Hellooo?! What's he like? was waiting on my phone when I entered the car.
He's nice, was all I texted back to Sara before driving home.
Evan was waiting for me when I pulled into the driveway.
"Sorry," I grimaced, as I hurried up the walkway.
"I just got here," Evan assured me.
I unlocked the door as my mother and Jonathan pulled in behind me.
"How was it?" Evan asked before they entered the house.
"Okay," I responded with a shrug. Evan eyed me curiously, knowing how nervous I had been about the dinner. "He's nice," I opted, providing him with my canned response.
"Evan," my mother greeted happily. "How are you?"
"Great. Thanks," Evan replied, hanging up his jacket. He paused for a moment with the hanger in his hand when Jonathan walked in. Then he took my jacket from me and hung it as well.