Page 47 of Lessons in Lemonade

“I had no idea you were still going on these dates, and I don’t understand why,” Jack says to me as I bend over to fasten the buckle on a new pair of black strappy Jimmy Choo shoes I recently bought.

“What do you mean?” I glance up at him. He’s standing directly in front of me, tossing a football in the air, and he’s scowling hard.

“What I mean is, this whole dating thing was your resolution for last year. I thought you were done with it. Why are you still doing them?” He tucks the ball under his arm and then crosses them over his chest. He’s frowning at me, and I don’t like it.

I also can’t tell what his problem is. He’s voiced his opinion about me going on these dates before, but he was never this serious. It’s almost like he’s mad at me.

“I didn’t go on a date last month, and I scheduled this before you got here.”

“Why didn’t you go last month?” he asks.

I grab my other shoe and slip it on. “I just didn’t feel like it.”

And that’s the truth. I hated leaving him behind, and I hated how that made me feel. I was worried about him, feeling guilty for essentially bailing on him when he needed me the most, and I didn’t feel like being social.

“Cancel it,” he all but demands.

“Why?” I freeze and look up at him again.

He pinches his lips together and looks away from me as I stand to full height in front of him. I like being a little taller when I’m in front of him; I don’t have to tip my head back as far, and it feels like a more level playing field, even if I only come up to his shoulder.

He swallows, not answering me, and I watch as his muscles shift under his shirt and tighten around the ball.

“It would be rude to cancel so close to the time we agreed to meet, and seriously, what’s your problem? It’s supposed to be fun, and I’ll be back later, so don’t get your feathers ruffled.”

“Don’t get my feathers ruffled.” His eyes come back to mine, and they are like molten chocolate as they stare down at me. “It’s not fun, it’s dangerous, and I don’t like it.” He’s leaned over a bit and is more in my face.

As I hold my head high, not backing away, a chuckle escapes me. His lips tip down even farther as I tease, “All right, Dad.”

“That’s not funny.” His voice and his eyelids have dipped lower. It does strange things to my stomach, so I take a step back to put some space between us.

“It totally is. Jack, I like meeting new people—you know this. I find them interesting, and you never know what can happen.” I turn to look in the mirror next to the door. I unbutton the top button of my shirt, decide it’s too revealing, and then button it back up.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks animatedly.

Glancing up, I see his reflection is next to mine in the mirror. He’s watching my hands, but as I stop moving, his eyes rise to meet mine.

Suddenly I feel guilty about going. Well, maybe my conscience has been knocking all day, but we’re just supposed to be friends. It shouldn’t bother him that I’m headed out with someone else, and it shouldn’t bother me that I’m worrying about what he thinks.

Turning to move past him, I walk to the kitchen and pick up my purse.

“Think about it—in the last year, I found Taylor from my date in March, learned about a great new local farm from my June date, and recently the guy I met in December hooked me up with a new electrician who’s been awesome.”

“Wait, you still talk to the guy from December?” he asks.

“Of course I do. He’s a great guy.”

Jack drops his gaze to the ground and takes in a deep breath. He looks perplexed, and even kind of hurt—but why would he look like that?

“Have you gone out with him again?” He looks back up at me, and the previous disapproving expressions he was throwing me are now replaced with a wariness.

“No, but he has stopped in at the restaurant a few times to eat.”

“Has he asked you out again?” He tips his head to the side, studying me.

“He has.”

“So why didn’t you go?”