30 First Dates (9 page)

*  *  *

Erin tapped her fingernails against her keyboard, over and over, her screen blank. How to describe this latest dating disaster? She definitely shouldn't have told anyone at work—or anyone she knew, for that matter—about her blog. Dave and Angie and who knew who else, at this point, would know the post was about Paul. They'd be
waiting
to read about Paul, especially since there was no way she was talking about their date at school.

Okay, she admitted to herself,
disaster
was a strong word. The date hadn't been bad. It had just been awkward. And it wasn't Paul's fault, not really. It was her and her damn list. After going over the list twenty times and talking to Sherri about it ad nauseam, she'd finally settled on asking Paul to go salsa dancing with her. Looks-wise, he had the Latin lover thing going on for miles, she'd thought, so why not? Besides, he seemed shy, so she figured maybe dancing would bring him out of his shell. And if it didn't, well, they'd have something to do besides talk.

A warmth crept into her cheeks just thinking about it, and she wondered how she was going to react to him when she saw him at school the next day. She stared at the screen without seeing it, envisioning instead the Prime Night Club dance floor, the flashing lights, the sexy rhythm of the music, the sweaty bodies sashaying all around. Damn, she shouldn't have had that last mojito…

May 2: Date 3

Name:
Pete*

Age:
    27

Job:   
Teacher

List:   
Get it on with a colleague (aka No. 4: Take salsa lessons)**

How do you define "sexy?" Two words: salsa dancing. I've always wanted to try it, but I honestly had no idea it was so damn hot. Literally and figuratively.

People are going to figure it out anyway, so I'll admit up front that this date was with a co-worker. I'm a teacher. Have I told you that before? I know I
have
pointed out that I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to nail down 30 guys to go out with me by my self-imposed deadline, so I have to find dates where I can. And, well, I'm at work every day.

I tell you this because it's central to the story of this date and for no other reason, because I don't particularly want to admit to anyone in the know at work who this entry is about. But I
have
vowed to tell you the truth here…and this blog won't work if I leave out the juicy stuff, right? *takes deep breath*

My date shows up at my apartment to pick me up, and I spring the whole salsa dancing thing on him. I don't know if he dances, and it turns out he really doesn't. But the place we were going, I'd researched, and that was the point. They
teach
salsa dancing—you don't have to know what you're doing before you show up. It sounded fun and I was stoked. Pete* was nervous though—like I said, he doesn't dance much. So we started the night at a bar. Liquid courage, that was how he put it.

After a couple of beers we headed to the dance club. They had a bar there, too, and he still wasn't ready to dance. So we had a few cocktails—Pete was drinking whiskey straight—I hit the mojitos. By the time we got out on the floor, we'd talked a lot and he'd loosened up. I don't remember ALL the details, but I know the dancing part was fun. There was an instructor who started things off easy for us beginners, and it got more complicated as the night went on. We switched partners constantly, and I wound up dancing with the teacher a lot. We had a blast—even Pete was getting into it.

We danced for hours, and I mean hours. We were there till almost 3 a.m., and between dances we'd hit the bar again. And salsa is s-e-x-y. So without going into too much detail, let's just say Pete and I got to know each other
really
well. I know Rule No. 1 of my blog is "no sex," and there was no sex. (I repeat, nosy, busybody fellow teachers, NO SEX.) But I have to face this guy at work tomorrow morning, and, well, I'm just not sure how things are going to look when we're sober and he's shy again. I will say that I'm open to the idea of a second date…

Erin cringed slightly as she hit "submit post." This was brash, even for her. Paul did know about the blog, but the idea of him reading this entry was mortifying. The idea of Dave and Angie reading it? Honestly, she couldn't even think about it. She made a new rule: no more dates with anyone at work.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Crushing

Erin flipped the light on, crossed the silent classroom, and set her bag down beside her desk. This was her favorite part of the day, the part before it started. She liked arriving early—well before her students, of course, but also before the other teachers. It helped her plan, helped her get her lectures organized, helped her think. She turned to the whiteboard behind her desk and began erasing the remnants of last week's lessons.

"Giiiirl."

She jumped, and the eraser thudded onto the floor. She hadn't even heard any footsteps. Erin picked up the eraser and pivoted slowly toward the open doorway.

"Ah, the moment I've been dreading has arrived."

Dave's grin was so wide it stretched his thin lips even thinner. It made him all beard. She braced herself, waited. He strode right to the front of the classroom, pulled a student desk/chair combo up toward her desk, and gestured for her to sit.

Thrown off, nerves fluttering in her stomach, she did it without even making a snappy retort. She waited, wincing internally.

"So Moreno's pretty hot, huh?" he asked.

"Aren't you the one who told me so?" she snapped back. Ah, there it was.

"Sounds like you had a pretty good night." His eyebrows waggled up and down like a villain's in a noir film.

"We had fun," she said cautiously. "Although I don't expect to repeat the experience, if he has to deal with anything like this from you or Angie." Her voice contained a warning.

Dave smiled again. "Relax. I wouldn't breathe a word. And Angie's not the type. Your secret's safe."

She huffed. Secret? There were no secrets in her love life. Not anymore.

"Have you seen Paul this morning?" Her mouth grew dry and her stomach muscles tightened as his name rolled over her tongue.
Lord, have mercy. How am I gonna get through twenty-seven more dates if I get all middle-school freaky crush over the third guy?

"No. There's, like, nobody here yet," he said. "I knew you'd be here though. Nothing else gonna get me out of bed and through the doors this early." He laughed.

"I'm glad my humiliation is so motivating for you," she said, unruffled. She'd expected harmless ribbing from Dave. Paul, though, was a different matter. She hadn't talked to him since Saturday night, but the blog post said it all. She might as well have passed him a note that said, "Do you like me? Check yes or no."

"Want me to slip him a note before class, find out if he likes you?"

Erin cringed. Jeez, she obviously needed to work on being less obvious. She considered her potential for public rejection.
And why, exactly, haven't I considered that before?

"Ha-ha," she said dryly. "I've got twenty-seven more dates to find. Can't get hung up on one of them. At least not yet."

"Well, we'll see if Mr. Paul feels the same way. I have a sneaking feeling he's gonna be coming back for more. At least, if he can handle the attention."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why the attention? You and Angie are the only two people he knows who know anything
about the blog. And you'd
better
be planning to keep it that way." Then she thought about Jess Mickelson walking by as she mentioned the blog and felt a twinge of unease.

Dave spread his hands out in front of him. "Relax. Like I said, your secret's safe with me. I'm just saying, not every guy could handle having his performance reviewed after every date. I don't think I could."

One corner of her lips turned up. "Well, no worries there, because I won't be writing about Paul again no matter what happens. The blog specifically states that I'm going on thirty dates with
thirty
guys before
I
turn thirty. Different guys. I don't have time to mess around with Paul—"

"No pun intended," Dave interrupted, and she glared at him.

"And I wouldn't post anything else on the blog about it even if I did. I just hope he can handle what I've already posted."

"I hope
you
can handle it," Dave said, and they both looked to the doorway as the sharp clack of heels hitting the tile floor clattered up the hall, growing louder by the second. Erin watched as Kelly Buckner passed by on her way to the English corridor, and within a minute, a buzz of chatter began to fill the hallway as her co-workers started to arrive.

*  *  *

She didn't see Paul that day, and she couldn't shake the feeling it was because he was avoiding her. She didn't dwell on it too much, though, because she'd received a text from Sherri that she'd finally bought the plane tickets for their Paris trip. She'd been so excited all afternoon, it was all she could do not to hum "La Vie en Rose" as she scrawled figures on the dry erase board in front of her class.

"Well you sure look happy. What is it? Big date tonight?"

Erin was walking on the sidewalk that led to the teachers' lot, juggling her stainless steel water bottle, the bulky canvas bag that held her students' work, and a DVD of
The Graduate
that Dave had pressed into her hands just before she'd exited the building. She glanced in the direction of the voice, wishing she'd thought to dig her keys out of her bag before she'd left her classroom.

Jess Mickelson looked smug, as usual.
Why's she talking to me?
Jess and her crowd generally only talked to each other, at least when they weren't kissing up to the administrators.

Erin tilted her chin a fraction higher. "Yeah, a date with these geometry tests." She tapped her water bottle on the side of her bag and gave Jess a wide smile before veering right to head to her car. "Have a good night," she said over her shoulder, not looking back to see if Jess had heard her. Jess' sudden interest in her life made Erin uncomfortable.

When she reached her car, she sat her cup on the roof, tucked the DVD into her bag, and dug into the inside pocket for her keys. Just as her fingers made contact with the plastic "I Love Horses" keychain she'd had since she'd gotten her first set of car keys, she spotted Paul out of the corner of her eye. He was crossing the lot and moving in her direction, hands in his pockets, head down. She glanced around and realized his car was just a few spaces away from hers.

Ah, the fates were playing tricks on her. Her stomach seemed to leap from its usual position and lodge somewhere near her throat. Jeez, was she
sweating
? In her mind, she saw the Paul she'd been with Saturday night. Tall, dark, and sexy Paul. Drunk and rhythmic Paul.

He noticed her then, and a faint redness crept into his cheeks as he approached. She watched his eyes flick quickly from her face, down her body and then back again. She felt it like a physical caress. Holy cow, but he was cute.

"Hey, you," she said.

He smiled shyly. "Hey."

She managed to click her car unlocked and open the rear driver's side door. As she swung the bulky bag from her shoulder, Paul reached for it, his hand grazing her arm as he took the bag from her. He placed it on her backseat and closed the door. Something about the gesture felt sweet.
Chivalry works well on him.

"I was watching out for you today. I kind of wondered if maybe you were avoiding me," she said.

His eyes grew a little wider, and Erin instantly felt guilty, realizing he clearly
had
been avoiding her. He was so shy, and her habit of saying exactly what was on her mind really seemed to throw him off guard.

"No," he stammered, looking down. He looked up again, though he didn't look straight at her. He seemed to focus on a point above her left shoulder. "Well, okay. Yeah, maybe." He grinned.

She leaned against the car door. Shyness worked well on him, too. "I'm not that scary. Really. I asked you out because I thought Dave had already told you I was going to, and I only attacked you Saturday night because you got me so drunk." She grinned a crooked grin back at him.

He laughed and looked her in the eye this time, visibly relaxing. "So when are we going out again? Or is that against the rules of your blog?"

She let out a little giggle, feeling strangely giddy. "I hope you weren't too weirded out by that."

He shrugged. "A little. You know, it's not the usual thing to read a review of your first date with somebody online after it happens."

Erin chuckled again. "Yeah, that's kind of what Dave said."

He peered closely at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "How many, um, people know about this blog thing, exactly?"

Oh, man.
"Just Dave. And Angie, because she heard me and Dave talking about it. And, like, my best friend and my roommate."
And maybe Jess
, she added silently, feeling another tinge of unease. "No one else you know."

Sure, she needed to go on dates with thirty different guys, but the more she talked to Paul Moreno, the more she didn't want her blog to get in the way of another date with
this
guy.

He turned and leaned against the car beside her, and Erin drew in a sharp breath. He looked down at her, his dark eyes serious. "So, this Friday, maybe?"

She felt a tingling sensation all over, remembering the last time he'd been this close. Closer. She leaned instinctively nearer to him. "Only if we can go dancing."

Just then, a car turned into their row of parking spaces, and Erin felt the atmosphere between them shift. He stepped away from her. She glanced up, and her eyes met Jess's as the other woman drove slowly past them. If she wasn't mistaken, Erin thought, Jess looked irritated.
Why should she care what I do? She's married, right?