“Getting a sweatshirt,” he said carefully. He hesitated, thinking it was none of his business, but the red stain on her cheeks bothered him. “Who called you?”
She was inherently honest, to the point where he had heard her say something, then immediately confess it wasn’t the truth. He suspected she couldn’t lie to a straight question like his. He was right.
Biting her lip, she said, “Um. Evan Monroe.”
That had him pausing in the act of lighting his kindling with a lighter. “Evan Monroe? Why the hell is he calling you? I didn’t even know you knew him.” Well, of course she must have met Evan at some point given that Evan’s brother Elec was married to Tammy, and Ty had seen Imogen talking to Evan at the gym, but he wanted her to explain how she knew him.
“I met him at Tamara and Elec’s wedding, very briefly. Then again in the gym.” She pushed her glasses up. “He, well, has been pursuing me.”
Ty supposed it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, but he didn’t like hearing it out loud. “What does that mean? He’s harassing you?”
“No, of course not. He’s merely asked me out to dinner, and this phone message was following up on that, offering specific time options.”
Then she said nothing else, bending over and riffling in his backpack.
Ty felt a wave of jealousy wash over him, but he took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “Are you going to go? Do you like him?”
“I don’t know him well enough to determine one way or another if I like him. But no, I am not going to go out with him.” She pulled out a sweatshirt that had his car emblazoned across the front.
It always made him feel ridiculous to wear a shirt with his own car on it in his leisure time, but his mother had given it to him, which was sweet. So he put it to use for camping and hiking, where he wasn’t likely to encounter a ton of people. But for some reason, as Imogen pulled it on, he liked that sweatshirt a whole lot better than he ever had before. It swallowed her whole and she quickly cuffed the sleeves, and fussed with the hood, but seeing that car across her chest brought out those feelings again. Weird happy feelings, along with a healthy dose of possessiveness.
“So why aren’t you going out with him?” It was stupid to poke at her, especially given he might not like the answer, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“I have altered the basis of my thesis. I was not finding it time effective, practical, or honest to pursue the dating rules myself. Instead, I’m focusing on interviewing both drivers and their wives about their courtship, whether or not stock car racing played a role in their meeting, and whether the path to marriage in any way resembled the rules laid out in the dating manual.”
“I like that better,” he said honestly. It had made him feel all sorts of unhappy to think that she was flirting with random men like Evan. Men he had to see at the track, who couldn’t be trusted to understand just how special Imogen was. They might just see her as a different pond to dip their toe in. Nothing more than a hookup.
Ty snapped a twig in his hand. Holy shit. He had been one of those guys. Sort of. Definitely not that crude about it, but he hadn’t expected that he would want a relationship with Imogen, and he did.
He really frickin’ did.
“Do you think it sounds more legitimate? I’m not sure I’m satisfied with it as such either, but honestly, for someone who thrives on academia, homing in on a research topic has been a nightmare. I’ve had zero self-confidence and have talked myself around in circles until I can’t decide if I have a legitimate thesis or a ginormous mess.”
Ty barely heard her, so stunned was he by his own thoughts. “Ginormous?” He didn’t think he’d ever heard that word before.
“Sorry. It’s like gigantic and enormous meshed together.”
“So really big?” Sort of like the heart attack he was about to have. Because he was about to lay it all on the line and make a ginormous jackass of himself.
“Exactly.”
“Um, Imogen?”
“Yeah?” She blinked at him, tugging on the drawstrings of his hooded sweatshirt.
“I was thinking that, you know, I’m having a really good time with you, and well, I know that you have every right to date other guys or whatever, but just so you know, I’m not going to be dating anyone else. I’ll just be dating you.” Ty felt a sweat breaking out on his forehead. Oh, yeah. Serious jackass-age. “That is, if you will let me. Date you, I mean.”
“Are you suggesting that we exclusively date one another from here forward in order to really get to know one another without fear or jealousy creeping into the equation?”
What she said. “Yes.”
Imogen’s face broke out into a shy, sweet smile that she seemed to be struggling to contain, but couldn’t. “I believe that arrangement would work.”
Ty grinned back, his shoulders relaxing. So they were dating. For real. “Drop the professor talk and tell me you’re cool with this.”
She walked over to him where he was sitting by the fire circle and looked down, taking his cheeks between her hands. “I like you. A lot,” she said with more simple honesty than he thought he’d ever received in his life. “So yes, I’m cool with this.”
Ty pulled her down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “Good, because I like you, too.” He kissed her, again feeling that ridiculous happiness rising in him. “I know my schedule is crazy, but I’ll make time for you. How are your Mondays?”
“I’m busy during the day, but usually Monday nights aren’t too bad. No papers to grade.”
She was boldly nibbling on his bottom lip and it was causing a heat to rise in him that had nothing to do with the fire burning behind him. “There’s only four more races. Then I have some downtime in November and December before we start prepping for next season.”
Maybe he should have kept his month shut. Saying the only time your weekends will ever be free is two months out of twelve had to be a little off-putting.
“Can I come to another race?” she asked. “I’ve only been once, and I think I have a little better understanding of the sport now than when I attended because of the research I’ve been doing. Besides, I can pepper you with questions before and after this time.”
Imogen had stopped kissing him, but she was stroking the back of his hair, which he found incredibly pleasant. “Of course you can go. I’ll get tickets for you. You can stay in my coach with me.”