Strings (1 of 2)

Chapter 45 - I Like You

An hour and a half into the date, we are on our last hole - the hardest windmill one. We haven't stopped joking and laughing throughout as we talk about all the random things one discusses on a first date.

There hasn't been many awkward pauses. I was worried about that when we started, but so far we have been able to keep the conversation going.

He's funny. Very funny. He also is extremely smart. Obviously ecause he is a doctor, he would have to be, but he's not just book-smart. He's charismatic and street-smart too. And he doesn't talk down to me at all, something a lot of smart rich men do.

He's just a normal guy with a lot of stories and funny comments. I can't help but start to get sucked under his spell.

I'm having a great time... I'm shocked.

"Here hold this," I say as I hand Chris the pink cotton candy stick and rip off a piece to stuff in my mouth. He takes it with a grin as I pick up the golf club and stand beside the ball, angling my arms down to swing and hit it.

It ricochets off the garden gnome on the fake grass path and stops just before the windmill entrance.

Chris chuckles behind me and I huff. "Shut up," I frown at him as I turn around but I can't help the smile tugging at my lips and soon I'm laughing with him.

"I thought you were an expert?" He mocks me with raised eyebrows and I hit his arm playfully.

"I am!" I say defensively and roll my eyes. "Tonight's not my night I guess."

I take the cotton candy back and hand him the golf club.

"Maybe I'm just good at distracting you." He says in a flirty tone making me smirk.

"It's probably the cotton candy," I say and wink.

He puts one hand to his chest, faking hurt as his face scrunches up. "Ouu... harsh." He jokes.

"Your turn, hotshot," I say and he flashes me his dazzling goofy grin.

"So, you think I'm hot," he says as a statement, not a question, as he lines up his club with the ball, turning away from me.

I giggle. I can't help it. "You're not ugly, but that's not what I meant and you know it."

"So, are you excited to move to New York? Two months away, right? That's exciting." He says as he hits the ball and it goes back the blocking figurines and into the windmill.

Fuck. He's going to win. He won't let me live this down, that's for sure.

I ignore his near-victory as he smirks at me knowingly. "I'm super excited. I always wanted to live in NYC."

"How come?" He asks as he kicks my ball through the windmill and we walk to the other side of it.

"It's different than here. It's alive. All the time. There's so much to see and do and learn. The people are really different than this smaller town. I like the busyness and drive everyone has there." I ramble on and he listens patiently, nodding along as I speak.

Thoughtful. I'll add that to my mental list of adjectives to describe him.

"Plus no one will know who I am." I add honestly.

"It must be hard to live with daily thinking everyone or anyone you meet has seen the magazine covers and stupid lies." He says and I smile.

"Exactly."

"When I was in high school - not here, but back in Chicago - I had a shit friend who took a picture of me in the locker room changing." He says and I look up to him, wide eyed. "He photoshopped it... smaller... you can guess where. Then he sent the picture to some other guys on the team and they spread it... and soon it was all over the school. I think everyone saw, even the staff. I could see it in their eyes when they tried not to look directly at me. It was mortifying."