Free The Twelve Dates of Christmas by Catherine Hapka Page B

I went? And if so, would it ever get easier to see them together?
    I lurched into my seat, somehow managing to half miss and almost fall on my butt. Putting out my right arm to catch my balance, I accidentally set it down right on the lit candle in the center of the table.
    â€œOw!” I yelped, yanking my hand away from the flame and in the process almost falling off my chair again. Smooth. Really smooth. This was rapidly turning into a how-not-to manual for making a sexy impression on a first date with a new guy. Not to mention playing it cool in front of an ex and his new squeeze. Too bad Allie wasn’t there—she could have been taking notes for her next bestseller.
    My face burned as several nearby diners glanced over in surprise and Andrew stared at me as if I’d just sprouted a second head. He reached out and righted the candle before it could set the little holly-and-ivy wreath surrounding it aflame.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked.
    â€œFine.” I stuck my singed finger in my mouth to soothe the burn. Then, realizing that wasn’t helping make me look any more sophisticated or in control of the situation, I quickly removed it and surreptitiously wiped it on my pants beneath the table.
    Fortunately the waitress appeared at that moment with a pitcher of ice water and our menus. I was able to hide my face behind the menu until I felt my cheeks start to return to their normal color.
    Somehow, I survived the next half hour or so. I even managed to avoid peeking over my shoulder to see what Cam and Jaylene were doing. The trouble was, I couldn’t seem to control my mind nearly as well. It kept drifting away from whatever Andrew was saying. Not that you could blame me too much for that. The guy only had one topic of conversation: himself. His choice of colleges. His predictedSAT score. His grades and extracurriculars. Oh, sure, once in a while he interrupted his autobiographical lecture to ask me a question about myself. I would grunt out some distracted, monosyllabic response, and then the Story of Andrew would continue. Of course, there
was
that one totally awkward moment when he mentioned something about wondering when the Simpson Scholarship would be announced already and then caught himself and stopped talking abruptly, apparently remembering that his primary competition for said scholarship was sitting across the table from him. His cheeks had sprouted little red spots for a moment, then he’d shrugged and changed the subject. Back to himself, of course.
    I was relieved when he excused himself to go to the restroom. As soon as he was gone, I slumped in my seat and stared at my burned finger. It still stung a little and looked kind of red. I hoped it wouldn’t swell up and make it hard to type. I still had a few applications to finish.
    â€œLexi?”
    I glanced up, but I already knew who I’d see standing there beside the table.I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
    â€œOh—hi, Cam,” I said, quickly tucking my finger away out of sight within my fist. “Having a nice time?”
    This time I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder at his table. Jaylene was nowhere in sight.
    He saw where I was looking. “Jaylene just went to the bathroom,” he said. “Um, I mean the little girls’ room.” He smiled faintly. “That’s what she calls it.”
    â€œCute.” I wasn’t really in the mood to hear every little adorable thing about Jaylene. But I did my best to keep smiling as if it didn’t bother me in the least.
    â€œAnyway, I just wanted to come over and make sure you’re okay.” Cam gestured toward my hand. “It looked like you burned yourself pretty good.”
    â€œOh.” I was touched. “Yeah. I’ll be all right. Thanks.”
    â€œYou sure? Good.” He looked down at my plate. If he noticed I’d barely touched my food, he didn’t say anything. “Having the