We sit there in silence, waiting for one of us to say something.
"How old are you?" I finally ask.
"I'm twenty-six," he replied.
My eyes widen. I reach for glass and take a sip of my drink.
"I'm assume you're eighteen?" he asked me.
"I'll be nineteen in two weeks but yeah."
"Happy early birthday then."
"Thanks," I give a slight smile.
"So," he starts as he scoots his chair closer to mine and leans back in it, "are you and Garrett seeing each other?"
"Are you serious? You just ruined this whole thing already," I spit.
"I'm just wondering. I saw you guys dancing earlier tonight and over the week when you accidentally ran into me."
"First of all," I point at him, "it was an accident."
"Okay," he laughs.
"I'm being serious. You really think I would do that if I've been trying to avoid you?"
Nick put his hand on his heart and gave a jokingly sympathetic face.
"That hurt."
"Shut up," I roll my eyes.
"So are you with him?"
"No," I stare at him, "why do you care?"
"I don't, I was just wondering."
For some reason, when Nick said he didn't care, my stomach dropped. I wasn't expecting to hear that and quite honestly, I wish I didn't.
"So why were you at my brothers wedding?"
When I asked the question, Nicks eyes got wide. He froze and stared at me. After a few seconds of him being stiff, he slowly positioned himself.
"What?" I ask.
"Um," he coughs, "I didn't know, uh, he was your brother."
"Yeah? Is that a problem?"
"I'm just surprised."
"You never answered the question."
"Um, I'm a good friend of your Aunt, apparently."
"Apparently?" I question.
"I didn't know you were the sister of the groom."
"Oh," I stare at him blankly, "I see."
"So, tell me about yourself," he demands as he changes the subject.
"What do you want to know?" I ask as I finish my drink.
"Everything about you."
I shouldn't be talking to Nick about myself or anything, in fact, but I've already given in by sitting here.
"Well, um," I breathe in, "I grew up in Georgia. I have a brother, obviously."
As I was speaking about myself, I notice Nicks eyes were synced with mine. His face was lit up in entertainment and genuine interest. He had a slight smile on his lips.
"So, yeah. I don't really know what else to say. Besides, I don't owe you anything about myself."
"Tell me about your love life," he calmly says.
"Excuse me?" I laugh, "this is getting too personal."
"What's wrong with being personal? Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal."
