Free 30 First Dates by Stacey Wiedower Page B

he looked puzzled. "Look, I'm not sure what he told you, but you don't have to ask me out."
    Paul laughed nervously, slowing his pace to allow a couple extra inches of space between them.
    "I, um, okay. I…Angie Russell said you wanted to talk to me? I saw you walking this way…"
    She stopped behind her car, and Paul was a few steps ahead of her before he realized it. Erin was glad—it gave her time to choke back her embarrassment. She laughed.
    "God, sorry. My brain has a direct line to my mouth." She laughed louder. "You must have thought I was gonna ask about a student or something. Oh, I could just shoot Angie."
    He still looked perplexed. Erin felt sorrier for him than for herself.
    "Did you want me to ask you out?" he asked in a diffident tone.
    Now she felt like one of her students. No, more like a student coming onto a teacher. OMG, was this ever uncomfortable.
    "Well, technically I should be asking you out," she hedged. She thought for about half a second before adding, "This conversation couldn't really get any more awkward, so I might as well just say it. Do you want to go out for drinks or something this weekend?"
    Internally, she shrugged. No reason to be shy—she had to get good at this.
    Paul smiled with one corner of his mouth. Kind of sexy, she thought.
    "I'm busy this weekend."
    Ouch . "Oh…kay. No worries. We're co-workers and all that, I'm not your type. Whatever. That's fine." She would not give away to him how much that smarted.
    "No, really. I'll be in Odessa this weekend, visiting my folks. Maybe next week sometime?" His eyes were wide and earnest. Okay, he really was cute.
    Erin's insides unclenched.
    "Next week will be great." Date No. 3, in the bag. Thank God.
     
    *  *  *
     
    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