But it was sort of nice.

Not that I would ever admit that out loud.

To anyone.

“My momma raised me right, Corin. And that means treating the woman I’m with like a lady.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Lame.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all I have going for me because I don’t know where the hell I’m taking you,” Beckett said.

“What? You don’t know where we’re going? What kind of first date is this?” I asked, chuckling. It was funny. Really, really funny.

We were such a strange pair. It was kind of perfect.

“You weren’t the only one stressing out. Why does it always have to be up to the guy to figure out where to eat and what to do?” he complained, turning the car on.

“Says the guy who insists on opening my car door for me like I don’t have my own hands.”

“Well, Miss I’m-My-Own-Woman, where should we go? And does that mean you’re going to pay for me?”

“Don’t go too crazy,” I joked. We grinned at each other and any concerns I had about going on a date with Beckett disappeared.

I forgot that I was weird and awkward when I was around him. Mostly because he seemed to dig that about me.

“So what do you feel like eating? There’s a nice French restaurant by the river,” he suggested.

“You’ve seen the cat on my butt. I don’t think I’m dressed for anything French. I could go change if you really want to—”

“No way. It gives me an excuse to check out your ass all night.” Beckett smirked and I bit down on my lip.

“Should I give it a little shake for good measure then?”

Beckett’s eyes brightened. “Would you? Pretty please?”

I groaned. “How about we figure out where we’re going to eat before I starve to death? We can talk about my butt later.”

As if on cue, my stomach growled. Loudly.

“Okay, obviously we need to prioritize here. If you don’t want fancy, what are you in the mood for?”

“Lasagna?” I asked seriously.

Beckett narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re the funniest woman I know,” he deadpanned.

I winked at him and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Seriously, I’m a meat and potatoes kind of girl. Nothing special.”

“Ahh, then I know just the place.”

We didn’t drive far and pulled up in front of a restaurant I hadn’t been to in years.

“How did you know about this place?” I asked, getting out of the car.

“My dad used to bring me here after baseball practice,” Beckett said, giving me a strange look. “Have you been here before?”

I nodded and swallowed thickly. “With my parents.”

“Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else—”

“No, it’s fine. Perfect actually. I love the food here.” I plastered a smile on my face and breathed through the pain. But it wasn’t overwhelming.

Not this time.

Beckett took my hand, so naturally, like he had done it a thousand times, and we walked into the tiny diner on the edge of town. It smelled just how I remembered it. Like fried food and apple pie.

Beckett led us to a booth, handing me a menu after we sat down.

“It hasn’t changed at all,” I said in wonder, looking around.

The Star City Diner was a piece of my history I hadn’t thought about in a long time. But now I remembered drinking chocolate malts and eating piles of mozzarella sticks.

I had forgotten the simple joy of cracked plastic booths and sticky menus. It had become mired down by other memories.

“I find it a little crazy that we’ve lived in the same town most of our lives and have never met until now,” Beckett commented, and I had to wonder at the same thing.

Southborough, Virginia, wasn’t a big place. How was it that we had never crossed paths until we happened to be in the same support group?

But timing was everything. And perhaps we hadn’t met until fate had felt that we were ready. Until we were at a place in our lives where we desperately needed each other.

“Did you go to Central High School?” I asked, and Beckett shook his head.

“I went to Mountain Valley. My parents live right on the border between the districts so I ended up over there.”

We placed our orders, burgers and fries all around. No surprise there.

“Well, I never went out much, so maybe it’s not that surprising we’ve never crossed paths,” I admitted.

“It’s a shame,” Beckett mused.

“What is?”

Beckett’s smile was sweet and oh so swoony. “That I didn’t find you sooner.” His eyes twinkled. My eyes twinkled.

I tried really hard not to let out a loud, noisy sigh.

“This is nice. I’d rather do this than sit in some stuffy restaurant where you can’t speak above a whisper.” Beckett took a drink of water.

“I’m lucky if I get a microwave dinner most nights, so this is great.”

“So you don’t cook?” he asked.

“Oh I cook. I just choose not to. Not much of a point when you’re cooking for one.” Yep, I was the loser who ate by herself while feeding the cat table scraps and trying not to get teary during Hallmark commercials. Way to look like a winner, Corin!

“Well, I could burn water. I used to try and help my mother with dinner when I was a kid, but I usually ended up setting something on fire. The kitchen is a scary place for me.”

“Maybe I need to give you a cooking lesson or two. My mom taught me everything I know.”

“Really? That’s cool. What’s your mom like?” he asked innocently, sipping on his iced tea.

“Dead,” I said bluntly.

Christ! Why had I said it like that?

Beckett went pale, his mouth falling open. “Corin, I didn’t know. I’m so sor—”

“You do not need to tell me you’re sorry. It happened a long time ago.” I was mortified that I had thrown that particularly tragic fact into his face. I had given the poor guy no warning. I really did suck at the whole first-date thing. Which is why in my less than stellar romantic history, there wasn’t often a second one.

“So you were raised by your dad?”

“Uh, he’s dead too.” Ack! What was wrong with me? There had to be a better way to tell him this stuff!

Beckett ran his hand through his hair. “I’m two for two on the clueless asshole scale tonight it seems.”

“Beck, you didn’t know. I don’t really talk about it.”

Then the awkward silence.

Way to go, Corin. This had to be a new record. Killed the date in less than thirty minutes. I was waiting for him to ask for the check. I wouldn’t have blamed him.

“Can I ask if you have siblings? Please don’t tell me they’re dead too,” he begged.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. There was nothing else to do but chuckle at the ludicrousness of the situation I had put us in. “No, but sometimes I wish she was.” My humor was so off the mark tonight it was ridiculous.

My mouth was uncomfortably dry and I took a drink of water. “I have an older sister, her name’s Tamsin. She’s a lawyer. She’s married. She’s a huge bitch.”

“Does she put that on her résumé?” Beckett asked with absolute seriousness.

“She probably should. It’s her greatest talent.” I smirked.

Our food came and we were silent for a few minutes as we dug in. I shoved food in my mouth in hopes I couldn’t screw this up any worse than I already had.

If Beck wanted anything to do with me after this, it would be a miracle.

I started to mourn the loss already.

“Did you go to college?” Beckett asked, after inhaling his burger in a matter of minutes.

I dipped a fry in ketchup. “No, I didn’t go to college. Adam and I opened the studio right after graduation. He wasn’t planning to go off to school and I didn’t really have plans to either. So we opened the shop.”

“You’ve been friends with Adam for a while then?”

I nodded. “Since high school.”

“He’s kind of an odd guy.”

“Ah, you picked that up, huh? He’s…well…hard to get to know. He’s all right though. So tell me about you. I want all the deep dark secrets.” I deftly maneuvered the conversation to him, not wanting to spend any more time on my dismal life.