Forget You

by Jennifer Snyder

  Hold on.

  Thanks. ~ Eva

  Clutching my phone, I stood, and went to the kitchen for a bowl of oatmeal. Why had I asked for his number when I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to use it? When Mindy finally sent me a text with his number, I thanked her again, but didn’t call Sawyer right away. What would I even say? I’d brushed the guy off more than once because I’d lumped him in my category of “Do Not Date” due to a few traits I’d noticed about him from the get go.

  However, I wasn’t trying to date him, was I? No, definitely not.

  My phone went off in my hand, startling me to the point of nearly dropping it. It was a text from an unknown number.

  You asked about me, huh? I knew it was goodnight and not goodbye between the two of us.

  My lips twisted into a wide grin. It was Sawyer. It had to be.

  How did you get my number? ~ Eva

  Same way you got mine. I asked Wes to ask Mindy. Guess we were both thinking the same thing at the same time. Imagine that.

  What were the odds of that happening?

  Wanna go out with me tonight, pretty eyes?

  Generally, I hated it when guys called me anything besides my actual name. Pet names that couples gave each other were one of my biggest pet peeves. Some would say him calling me “pretty eyes” wasn’t a pet name, but I still considered it one. That wasn’t the problem though. The problem was I could hear him uttering the words to me in that voice of his, and I liked it.

  Where do you have in mind? ~ Eva

  What do you like?

  I thought for a moment. What did I like? I liked his smile, and his six-pack. When it came to dates though, I couldn’t think of anything in particular. Generally, guys either met me at a party, took me to dinner and a movie, or we hung out at the bar. What else was there?

  Food. Movies. Alcohol. All the usual things. ~ Eva

  What about games?

  Games? If he was planning to take me to some stupid football game, I would have to cancel. There was no way I was sitting outside in the freezing cold on some hard ass metal bench, watching a game I knew nothing about.

  What kind? ~ Eva

  The kind you play.

  What a smart-ass.

  Like football? No. I’d rather play video games instead. ~ Eva

  Great, because that’s the kind I meant.

  Closing my eyes, I began to wonder if he was serious. Was Sawyer Keeton, active National Guard member, a freaking video gamer? I seriously hoped not. He had to be joking.

  How about I pick you up at six? We can eat, and then head to the arcade.

  My stomach dropped to my toes. He was serious. I pursed my lips together as I thought this situation over. An arcade, really? Not my top pick for a date, but maybe it could be fun. A new text came in from Mindy while I was pondering what to do.

  Sorry, I gave Wes your number to pass along to Sawyer. Hope you’re not mad.

  She’d actually done me a favor, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

  No, it’s fine. He’s in the process of asking me out for tonight. ~ Eva

  Yay! Are you saying yes? Where’s he taking you?

  I’m not sure if I’ll go yet. He wants to go to the arcade. Is that stupid? I’ve never been asked on a date there. ~ Eva

  Not stupid at all. It could be fun! Give it a shot.

  I didn’t respond to her text. Instead, I switched back over to Sawyer’s message thread.

  Sure. Six will be fine. ~ Eva

  Mindy had been right. Maybe I should give it a shot. I had nothing better to do besides laundry, and who wanted to do that on a Saturday night?

  Cool. Text me the directions to your place, and I’ll pick you up.

  My thumbs tapped across the screen of my phone as I typed out the directions. As I pressed send, my heart leaped into my throat. Sawyer Keeton, me, and a video arcade—there could be worse ways to spend my night. Licking my lips, I thought about what I should wear on a date like this. I might have to make that trip to Paige’s Closet for real today.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SAWYER

  After pulling up to Eva’s apartment complex, I sat with the engine idling for a while and stared at the building. Not because I was nervous, but because I’d been so excited to go out with her, I’d arrived twenty minutes early. Popping a mint into my mouth, I cut the engine on my car, pulled out my cell, and cruised around on Facebook for a bit. When it was five minutes till, I climbed out to find her door.

  Her place was on the second floor. I stood outside, preparing to knock, but also listening for any noises coming from inside. I wanted to know if she was the type who blasted music when she was getting ready or if she left the TV on as background noise. The desire to know something more about her, regardless of how small or trivial it was, slipped through my mind. Standing outside her door, all I heard was silence. Knocking, I took a step back and waited for her to answer. It didn’t take her long. I took this as a good sign.

  “Hey,” I said when she swung the chipped brown door open.

  A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she eyed me. “Hi, come on in. Let me grab my stuff.”

  The scent of coconut flooded my nostrils, making my mouth water. I loved it when a girl wore something that made them smell like food instead of flowers, cheap hookers, or old ladies. Coconut, apple, strawberry—those were my favorites.

  Stepping through the door, I closed it behind me, but didn’t migrate farther into her apartment. With my back to the door, I took in the place. It was a small apartment, but so was mine. A white and tan striped couch sat along the wall farthest from me. A bookshelf stood beside it, decorated like something cut from the pages of a magazine. A scuffed up coffee table that had seen better days rested in front of her couch. There was a bowed TV stand with an old school tube TV on it. The screen was no bigger than nineteen inches.

  “I haven’t seen a TV like this in a while. Everyone has flat screens now,” I muttered randomly.

  Eva glanced at me from where she stood in the kitchen, the color of her sweater making her eyes even brighter. “I don’t buy new things unless I need them.”

  “Good philosophy.” I crammed my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “More people should live by that motto.”

  She flipped off the light in her kitchen, and started toward me. Dressed in a tight-fitting pair of jeans, black ballerina flats, and a soft-looking turquoise sweater, Eva looked mouthwatering. Her hair was flowing past her shoulders, and her makeup was nowhere near overdone. I swallowed hard, fighting to gain control over my thoughts, because there was only one train my brain had jumped on.

  “I know. I think if I made a T-shirt with that on it, people would buy them.” She smiled. “You ready?”

  We were standing in her dark apartment, with me blocking the damn door. Nervous butterflies flapped their gigantic wings in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t a ladies’ man, that role had been Ryker and Wes’s in the family, but I was never this tense when it came to them either.

  Taking in a deep breath, I stepped to the side. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Eva grabbed a thin coat from a hook beside the door, and pulled it on as we stepped outside. Locking the door behind us, she started for the stairs. Neither of us spoke again until I motioned to my car. Eva started toward the passenger side, and I swore I heard a hostile sounding snort come from her.

  “I knew it,” she muttered under her breath, barely loud enough for me to hear.

  “Knew what?” I asked, flashing a crooked grin. I gripped the handle to the driver side door, and slid behind the wheel.

  The smell of her perfume or soap—whatever the hell it was that made her smell so damn good—filled the space inside my car quickly.

  “I knew you’d drive a Mustang or some other sporty, muscle car like this.” She slammed the passenger door shut harder than necessary, and I fought the urge to tell her so.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Most girls think it’s hot seeing guys dr
ive cars like this, don’t they?” I cranked the engine.

  “I’m not most girls, so I wouldn’t know,” she insisted. “What I do know is that this car fits with the category I placed you in earlier.”

  “And what category would that be?” Her statement had intrigued me.

  As I backed out of the parking space, I waited for her answer. She set her purse at her feet, and then crossed her ankles, before she crammed her hands underneath her thighs. A shiver racked through her body. I frowned, wishing the heat in Ryker’s car didn’t take a year to work.

  “The cocky, arrogant player, complete douche bag of a guy category. You know, the type your cousin Wes fits into so perfectly.”

  “You mean to tell me you aren’t part of the Wes Keeton fan club?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, not at all.”

  I chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “And that means?” She tilted her head to the side, and stared at me.

  I turned the knob on the heat, and got it blowing mildly warm air.

  “Nothing. Just that any woman who lumps guys into categories, the way you obviously do, isn’t the type to fall for the playboy façade.” I was serious, probably more serious than I’d ever been about anything in quite a while. “You’re too observant for your own good.”

  Eva leaned back against her seat. “Yeah, well, you got that right. That’s why I wasn’t positive I wanted to waste my time tonight with you.”

  Either I’d struck a nerve by calling her observant, or she was just blunt. Glancing at her, I realized my answer in the twist of her lips. Blunt. This girl was just fucking blunt as all get out.

  I laughed. “Well, guess I’m glad you took a chance, because now you’ll see I’m not supposed to be in that category.”

  This was partially the truth. I wasn’t one of those guys. I never truly was. Ryker could have been considered more of a playboy than me. Yeah, I had a long list of one-liners I enjoyed using, but that was because I was sarcastic as hell. It wasn’t because I was trying to get into some girl’s pants by being an ass.

  “Time will tell.” She smiled, and shifted to look out the window.

  The rest of the ride was spent listening to the only radio station Ryker’s car ever seemed to get clearly—some rap station from two towns over. I’d caught Eva tapping her fingers against her knee a few times, but for the majority of the drive, she sat still.

  “So, where are you taking me for dinner?” she asked, breaking the silence in the best of ways.

  “The best place ever.” I smiled.

  When we pulled up in front of the local pizzeria, I didn’t know what I expected Eva to say, but I knew I had never expected her to laugh the way that she did.

  “What’s so funny? This place has got the best margarita pizza I’ve ever tasted,” I insisted, trying not to give in to her contagious laugh.

  “This is like a date a thirteen-year-old would take me on.” She chuckled.

  “A thirteen-year-old? No way. This is the best date ever.”

  “Oh my God, pizza and video games? Right, best date ever.” Tears were trickling down her cheeks, she was laughing so hard.

  Crap, maybe this was a juvenile date I’d planned.

  “Are you sure you’re twenty-three?” She opened her door, and stepped out.

  Cutting the engine, I quickly followed her. “What, would you rather we go to some fancy restaurant, have a few drinks, and then go to some boring ass movie?”

  “Generally, that’s the type of dates I go on.” She shrugged.

  Holding open the door to Chandler’s Pizzeria, I motioned for her to step inside before me. The warm air infused with the scent of garlic and marinara sauce flowed to my nose, making my mouth water.

  “Lame. Those dates are lame,” I insisted.

  A dark-haired guy behind the front desk motioned to us, and asked how many. I held my fingers up, flashing him a two, and then we followed him to a table in the back.

  “Sometimes I go on dates to parties or the bar,” she said. There was a slight bit of defensiveness etched into her words that I found comical.

  “Right, because those are so original.” I slid into the booth seat across from her, and took a menu from the waiter—even though I already knew what I wanted to order.

  “You are absolutely right. Thank you for pointing that out to me.” Her incredibly colored eyes met mine across the table. “Looks like you have your work cut out for you. You need to turn this middle school date into something extraordinary, Sawyer Keeton.”

  Something extraordinary, I liked that, but not nearly as much as I enjoyed hearing my name pass her lips.

  “Challenge accepted.” I beamed.

  We each ordered a beer, then Eva let me chose a pizza of my choice, saying that, since she was on a roll trying new things tonight, she didn’t want to order her usual pepperoni and cheese. So, I placed an order for the margarita pizza.

  “What comes on it?” Eva asked. Her index finger ran along the outside of her beer bottle. “I like margaritas, but is this pizza going to have lime or something on it?”

  The bridge of her nose crinkled when she asked the question, and I fought the urge to smile like an idiot at her cuteness.

  “No limes, but the sauce does have tequila in it.”

  Her eyes snapped to mine, and a dumbfounded expression swirled within them. “Seriously?”

  “No.” I shook my head, and laughed. “I’m just messing with you. There’s nothing that would hint to its name on it actually, just basil and tomatoes, two types of cheese, and garlic on top of some standard sauce.”

  “Oh. That sounds sort of light and amazing.” She perked up, and began picking at the label on her beer bottle. I found myself wondering if this was a nervous habit of hers. Was I making this gorgeous girl nervous?

  “It’s good.” I nodded.

  “There’s no pepperoni though.” She took a small sip of her beer before setting it down and meeting my stare again. “Are you a vegetarian?”

  My face scrunched at her question. No one had ever asked me that question before. I knew some guys were vegetarians—hell, there were even some who were vegans, I was sure—but I was nowhere near being either of those things. To each their own, but that just wasn’t me.

  “Um, no,” I admitted cheekily.

  Her eyebrow arched, and she tilted her head to the side as an amused smile twisted her lips. “Did I offend you?”

  “No.” I took another swig of my beer, hoping what I was about to say didn’t offend her in any way, or make me seem like an ass. “I just don’t think the human race fought its way to the top of the food chain so long ago to become vegetarians.” I added a shrug at the end of my words to soften them.

  Eva laughed.

  Her head flung back, and she laughed at me hardcore. There was nothing sexier to me than being able to make a woman laugh. It was my biggest turn on. Any guy could make a woman smile. They could even make a woman feel a million different emotions at once, but it took real talent to make a woman genuinely laugh—like eyes crinkling at the sides and tearing up, abs-workout-of-the-year laugh.

  Dear God, Eva was beautiful when she laughed.

  “That’s a good one,” she muttered while finally gaining control over herself.

  “Thanks. There’s plenty more where that came from.” I winked.

  Our waiter came with our pizza then. I moved the little metal stand to the center of the table for him so he could easily set the delicious thing down. “Are you ready to eat the best meatless pizza of your life?” I grabbed the spatula our waiter had left, and served her a slice.

  Eva nodded. “Holy cow, this thing smells amazing.”

  “Wait until you taste it.” I grinned.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  EVA

  Margarita pizza was now at the top of my list of favorite foods, that was for sure. I sat back against my booth seat, debating whether I should have a third piece or stop at two. I wasn’t one of those girls
who ate like a bird in front of guys because they were afraid they would look like a pig. It was more about being able to move without feeling sick to my stomach throughout the remainder of our date.

  “Are you going to have another?” Sawyer asked. He’d already consumed half the pizza by himself.

  “I’m full, but this is so good.” I grabbed the spatula, and cut the slice closest to me in half.

  “Right?” He beamed.

  After we paid our bill, and crammed the last two slices in a to-go box, we headed to his car. The night air was so cold it almost felt damp. Winter was not my season, and I hated that it was just around the corner. The holidays weren’t nearly enough to make me look forward to the icy rain, snow, and bitterly cold temperatures. Yes, Norhurst was in North Carolina, but it still got into the twenties or lower during the winter months. Shivering, I crammed my hands into the pockets of my coat, wishing I had thought to bring my gloves tonight.

  “Cold?” Sawyer asked. “Sorry, it takes a year for my brother’s car to get warm.”

  I didn’t take much notice of the fact he’d just said the Mustang was his brother’s car, but for whatever reason, he had. His face had gone from normal to pained in a matter of seconds.

  “It’s fine,” I insisted.

  He unlocked the doors, and opened the driver side quickly. Before I could slip inside, he’d already cranked the engine, and was setting the to-go box in the backseat. What the hell? Was his brother a sensitive subject?

  “To the arcade.” He buckled up and placed his hand on the gearshift before shifting his eyes to mine.

  “Yep.” My voice lacked the level of enthusiasm as his. Apparently, I needed more than one beer and some actual alcohol to be in my margarita pizza for this date to sound fun.

  When we pulled up in front of Allen’s Arcade, Sawyer quickly found a parking spot. The first thing I noticed about the place was that the neon sign hung above the building was a little on the fritz. One of the Ls in Allen’s and the D in arcade were dull as the black sky they were paired against.

  “Don’t go getting all judgey on the place just yet,” Sawyer said. “It might not look like much, but this place can actually be pretty entertaining.”