Read The Moment We Began (A Fairhope New Adult Romance) for Free Online Page B

playing me or
not, but I’m definitely intrigued, so I ask the question he so
obviously wants me to ask.
    “If you’re done, then why did you come
tonight?”
    He looks over at me and his eyes flick from my
knees up to my face. “Because you’re not like those other
girls.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I saw your picture remember?” he
says. “How could I possibly say no? I figure worst case
scenario, I get to have dinner with a beautiful woman. Best case, we
actually hit it off.”
    I know this is the part where I’m supposed
to swoon, but I can’t help feeling he set that whole thing up
just so he could impress me with how sweet and romantic he is.
    When he pulls into a little Italian restaurant
near the beach, I don’t bother telling him I’ve been here
before. He seems really proud of himself for coming up with a way to
stand out from the crowd of other blind dates.
    “I found this place a couple years ago,”
he says. “It’s one of the best kept secrets along this
part of the coast. If you like Italian food, you’re going to
love it.”
    I guess he does get points for taking me off the
beaten path, but I can’t help wondering how many other girls
he’s brought here. Or how many times he’s used the line
about having dinner with a beautiful woman.
    “I adore Italian food,” I say.
    Inside, it’s dark and romantic. A pretty
girl with long, dark hair takes us to a secluded booth near the back
of the restaurant. Either we look like the kind of couple who wants
to be alone, or he called ahead to make sure his favorite table was
available.
    We settle in and I long we have before he starts
trying to impress me with his knowledge of fine wines.
    It’s something all the rich guys like him
do. Like they were given a dating instruction booklet when they were
kids called ’How To Bag A Rich Girl’.
    It takes precisely thirty seconds.
    “We’ll take a bottle of the Stag’s
Leap Cabernet Sauvignon,” he tells the waiter. He doesn’t
even look the guy in the eyes when he orders. “When I was
touring the vineyards in Napa last Fall, I fell in love with their
cab. At first, you taste the berries, but it finishes with a slight
hint of vanilla.”
    He doesn’t bother asking me if I like red
wine, which I don’t.
    He also orders an appetizer without asking for my
opinion.
    I’m not wearing a watch, but I’m
guessing we’ve only been on this date for about fifteen minutes
and I’ve already got him pegged. Sure, he’s more handsome
than the average guy, but other than his looks, I’ve been out
with this exact guy before.
    Guys like this start out very charming. He says
all the right things. Wears all the right clothes. Makes all the
right moves. But eventually, he’ll make it clear the only thing
they really cares about is himself. I already know that every time he
asks me a question that appears to be about me, he’ll quickly
turn the conversation back to him. He’ll continue to do exactly
everything he wants to do tonight without asking what I want, but
then try to pass it off like he’s being the ultimate gentleman.
    He’ll expect me to be very impressed by him
by the time we leave the restaurant, and when I’m not, he’ll
either turn into a mega-jerk or he’ll try harder by announcing
that he wants to take me to some other mystery place that will turn
out to be some excessively romantic hillside where he’ll try to
get in my pants.
    I usually play along with these guys and stroke
their egos long enough to make it through dinner and the drive home,
but I’m not in the mood for listening to him talk about himself
all night. Maybe it will be more fun to not play along. I’m
curious what he’ll do when I refuse to fit into his perfect
plan for the night.
    When the server brings the wine and a basket of
bread, I place my hand over my wine glass and shake my head. “I
actually don’t like red wine,” I say. “Can you
bring me a vodka and cranberry?”
    “Of course,” the server says. He