The Bookworm's Guide to Dating

restaurant.
“I won’t. This is a trial date, and you can’t go drooling over someone’s car.”
“Well, if you want to talk manners, it’s rude not to tell a lady where you’re taking her for dinner. Do you know how much anxiety I had to deal with over what to wear? My bedroom floor looks like a mosh pit of clothing.”
“Not to be pedantic, but I’ve seen your bedroom. I don’t understand how that’s different to normal.”
I sniffed. “I cleaned yesterday.”
“Ah, so this time, the clothes are clean.”
“I see why you’re single. You’re a terrible date.”
“Yet here you are, getting advice from me on your terrible dates.”
“Oh, shut up, Joshua.”
He laughed and pulled into an empty parking slot outside the restaurant. “Wait there.”
I did as he said and waited as he rounded the front of the truck and opened the door for me. “Thank you,” I said as I put my hand in his and gingerly stepped down from the truck.
“Don’t mention it. I don’t want you breaking your ankle before your date tomorrow. A moonboot won’t go with those shoes.”
I shot him a withering look before I turned my attention to the restaurant. It was painted in white, and the arches that formed the doorway and the windows were lined with gold and shaped like the onion domes that were reminiscent of the roof of its namesake, the Taj Mahal. A sign that proclaimed the restaurant as Moti Mahal was large, gold, and backlit by bright white lighting.
It wasn’t so clear to see right now, but when it was dark, it looked amazing.
“Are you ready to go inside?”
I nodded and followed Josh to the front door. The doors were shaped in the same arch as the porch outside, and he pulled them open for me to step inside. The décor inside matched the colors outside, but there were decadent additions of red in the form of the tablecloths and rich tapestries on the walls.
“Good evening and welcome to Moti Mahal.” Priya Laghari grinned as soon as she laid eyes on us. “Well, well, well. Does Colton know about this?”
I shook my head at my former English study partner. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“It never is,” she sang, whipping two menus up. “Follow me.”
I glared at Josh.
“It really isn’t,” he asserted. “I’m teaching her how to date.”
Priya’s laugh tinkled. “Would you like me to see how many times I can book you in this week? I remember the high school attempts.”
Groaning, I sat down at the table she led us to. “Please don’t remind me.”
Another laugh as she set the menus in front of me. It was a miracle we’d been friends at all in high school—Priya was a full-blown extrovert who was entirely comfortable in her skin. It helped that she was tall and beautiful, with long, straight hair that was almost jet black, and her amber eyes complemented her gorgeous dark skin perfectly.
If I looked like her, I’d probably have been a lot more confident back then, too.
“That bad, huh?” Josh’s eyes danced with laughter.
I buried my face in my hands. Yes, my high school dating record was bad. Terrible. Embarrassing. So much so that one day, it would be used to teach people what not to do.
No joke.
She took our drink order without another comment about my dreadful dating life and disappeared off to pass it to a waitress for it to be filled.
I hid my face behind my menu.
“You can’t hide, Kins,” Josh said, perusing his own menu much more casually than I was. “People in town know you. They won’t know most of the guys you’re considering going out with, so you’re gonna have to deal with a little ribbing here and there.”
“No, I don’t.” I dropped the menu. I already knew I was ordering the kufta special. “I know my dating life is dismal. I know I’m awkward and introverted and bookish and all those other things that can make doing normal people stuff hard because people are just exhausting, but—”
Josh dropped his menu on the table with a ‘thwack’ and met my eyes. A fierceness shone in his eyes, one I hadn’t seen before, and I swallowed the thick lump in my throat.
“Stop it,” he said in a low voice, his gaze never wavering. “All of those things—your introverted nature, your awkwardness, your endless love of books—make you who you are, Kinsley. And if you go out with a guy who can’t appreciate that those things are what make you a great person, then he doesn’t deserve to go out with you. Got it?”
“Then why are you here, helping me hide those things? Isn’t that a waste of your time?”
He dropped his eyes back to the menu that was now flat on the table. “I’m not helping you hide anything. They’re clearly things that make you feel uncomfortable, and if I can give you tools that help you feel more comfortable when you’re dating, then so be it. But don’t discard them as flaws. They’re not your flaws. They’re your strengths. They’re what make you, you.”
I stared at him for a moment, but when it became obvious he wasn’t going to meet my gaze, I snorted. “Thanks for that, Dr. Phil.”
“Anytime, ma’am. That’ll be one hundred dollars, please.”
“Would you like me to shove it up your behind or choke you on it?”
“Direct deposit is preferred.”
“Sorry, I don’t do banks.”
He glanced up, a smile playing on his lips. “That makes two of us. Are you ready to order?”
“I’ve been ready since you mentioned that special. Bring it on.”

CHAPTER SEVEN – JOSH
rule seven: nobody cares that you’ve been waiting a year for that sequel.
“This is the point in the night where I’d ask a date questions about her life.”
Kinsley peered at me over the rim of her wine glass. “Are we doing that deep into it?”
“Yes. Jamie will do the same, and you need to have your answers prepared. And I need to know that you’re not going to go off on a tangent.”
“I