Still no response.
My lips curved up. “Are you listening to me?”
Shortcake blinked like she was coming out of a daze. “Huh? Yes! Yes. Totally.”
There was no mistaking she was feeling what I was feeling. Not when she had stared at me that long. “Yeah . . . so, you haven’t been on a date?”
“What?”
I chuckled. “You really haven’t been listening to me at all. You’ve been too busy staring at me.”
“I have not!”
“Yes, you were.” I nudged her shoulder.
The expression she made was like she tasted something bad. “You are so beyond the acceptable level of arrogance.”
“Arrogant? I’m just stating the truth.” I tossed my notebook aside and leaned back on my arms, watching her. I couldn’t resist teasing her. It was like finding a new hobby. “There’s nothing wrong with staring at me. I like it.”
She gaped at me. “I wasn’t staring at you. Not really. I sort of . . . dazed out. That’s how thrilling talking to you is.”
“Everything about me is thrilling.”
“About as thrilling as watching your tortoise cross a road.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
“Keep calling me sweetheart and you’re going to be limping.”
Ah, I liked that. “Oh, listen to you.”
“Whatever.”
“We should do it.”
Her lips puckered. “Do what? Go home? I’m all about going home, like right now.”
I smiled. “Go on a date.”
Six
Shortcake stared at me like I’d just suggested that we strip naked and run through the cornstalks. She snapped her notebook closed and grabbed her bag. “I’m not sure I’m following this conversation.”
“It’s really not that complicated.” I laughed at her hateful look. “We should go out on a date.”
She stared at me a moment and then shoved her notebook into the bag with lethal force. “I don’t understand.”
Why wasn’t I surprised that she didn’t understand? Lying back, I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the bones pop. I watched her gaze sweep down the length of me, getting hung up on the skin exposed between my shirt and belt.
My smile spread. “Typically going on a date is when two people go out for the evening or sometimes during the day. Really, it can be any time of the day or night. It usually involves dinner. Sometimes a movie or a walk in the park. Though, I don’t do walks in the park. Maybe on a beach, but since there aren’t any—”
“I know what a date is.” She jumped to her feet, eyes like chips of black ice in the darkness.
“You said you didn’t understand. So I’m explaining what a date means.”
Her lips twitched as she crossed her arms. “That’s not the part I don’t understand and you know that.”
“I was just making sure we were on the same page.”
“We’re not.”
Grinning shamelessly, I lowered my arms, but didn’t tug down my shirt. “So now that we both know what a date entails, we should go out on one.”