Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)(37)

His eyes sparkle. “How naked did you get me? All the way or just to my underwear?”

I bury my face in my hands. “Moving on! What’s next?”

He has pity on me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “All right. Tell me what you’re most insecure about when it comes to first dates. What’s your weakest point?”

“Is everything too broad?”

“A bit, yeah.”

I take in a deep breath and think back to my date with John. “Conversation, I think. I’m so used to my family and the way there is never a quiet moment with them that I don’t know how to handle lulls. So I usually try to fill it as quickly as possible.”

“And that gets you into trouble?”

“I gave a Ted Talk on the reproductive cycles of flowers on my last date.”

Will gives a valiant effort to not burst with laughter. But I see it there, hovering below the surface. His nostrils flare. His cheek twitches. “Is it too much to ask to hear this monologue? Please tell me flowers are into kinky stuff?”

“Stop!” I say, laughing and stretching my foot under the table to push his knee. Chuckling, he captures my ankle instead of letting me kick him. His thumb glides softly across the tender skin of my ankle and at the same moment, our laughter fades. The air cracks between us, and he lets go while I clear my throat and sit up straight.

Silence blankets the table.

Will pops a fry in his mouth and then licks the salt off his lips. Before I realize it, I’m watching oh so closely. For research! Obviously. Noting how the pros do it.

This time he does the manly look I tried but couldn’t master: arm hooked over the back of the bench seat. So casual and composed. Like maybe his shoulders are tight from a long workout and he just needs to stretch them. My eyes track down that long arm as it spans out over the top, putting his floral tattoos on display for me.

Will clears his throat. “It’s okay to let the conversation go quiet for a bit, by the way. The ability to be silent shows confidence.” As if to illustrate a point, he shifts, picks up his water glass, and takes a long drink. His Adam’s apple bobs against the long column of his throat, and now I’m convinced I need to jump into a pool full of ice because I am way too hot and bothered for a casual lunch at the diner. What is happening to me?

I lean my forearms on the table, sitting forward. “How are you so good at this?”

“Practice. Everyone thinks a good date is something that comes naturally, but it’s not. It’s taken time for me to learn the best tactics. Like the other day in my room when we…” He trails off and looks down briefly. “Anyway, yeah. I know my strengths now, and I’m confident in them.”

Interesting. He’s avoiding remembering that moment too. Did he feel as affected by it as I was?

A thrilling concept.

“Hey, can I ask you a random question?”

“Sure.”

“Is there something between you and James?”

A startled punctuated laugh jumps from my throat. “Me and James?” I’m sure my eyes are bugging from my head. “No way. That would be like me falling in love with Noah. Gross.”

“Really?” he asks, looking a little skeptical.

“Really. I can’t think of anything less appealing. No offense to James.” I smile as Will nods. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugs. “No reason. Just thought it would be good to get the whole picture. If we were trying to specifically help you snag James, then we could tailor our lessons.”

Makes sense. But no—James may not be my brother by blood, but he’s my brother all the same.

I pull my legs up in the booth, crossing one over the other. “Okay, speaking of lessons. After I’ve learned to bask in silence confidently, then what? What about when I need to talk? I don’t think my sexy flowers are as interesting to other people as they are to you.”

He laughs and grabs a napkin. “Do you have a pen?”

After digging through my purse, I find one and hand it to him. Will then writes a series of sentences on the napkin and hands it to me. “These are the questions I have memorized that I ask on every single date. Questions about family are always awkward and have too many potential pitfalls, and no one really wants to talk about their job. So I like to ask fun icebreakers instead. Works every time.”

I read the napkin out loud. “What was your favorite TV show to watch as a kid? What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but have been too scared to do it? Would you rather skydive or read a book?” I lower the napkin. “You have these memorized?”

He nods.

“And they really work?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tilts his head and watches me like there’s a question that’s been nagging at him for years. “Annie, what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but have been too scared to?”

Immediately the answer comes to mind. One that I can’t voice. One that he can’t know.

Instead, I nibble on a fry and make a thinking noise. And then my eyes rest on his forearm and a more appropriate answer surfaces. “I’ve actually always wanted to get a tattoo.”

He sits forward, looking excited and a little pleased. “Really? Why haven’t you?” He asks like it would be as simple as just getting a haircut.