That Boy: A Small Town, Friends-to-Lovers Romance (That Boy Series Book 1)

“Yeah. Whatever,” I say to myself as I walk to the limo.

The driver opens the door for me, and I ask where we’re going, where we’ll meet Phillip. The limo driver just shrugs and tells me to have a glass of champagne and enjoy the ride.

More champagne. Yikes.

The whole limo thing is really a surprise, and I must say, I like it! I know Phillip wants this date to be special and to make an impression.

Although, I have to say, he was pretty impressive last night, but I really probably shouldn’t talk about that.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Spa and flowers and jewelry.

Like lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Sorry. You know, I often wonder what incredible things my mind could hold if it wasn’t filled up with lines from every movie I have ever seen.

Anyway, wow!

He really has gone to an awful lot of trouble and expense for this. So, I fully intend to enjoy it and maybe try to repay him later.

I pour myself a flute of champagne, take a sip, lean back, and enjoy the ride. We head out of the city, eventually to the town, and then the neighborhood where we grew up. Before I know it, we are at our old grade school.

The limo driver stops the car, walks around to the other side, and opens my door.

He obviously expects me to get out.

So, I get out, look at him in confusion, and say, “Now what?”

“Walk back to the swings,” he says after consulting a list from his pocket.

Remind me to get my hands on that list later.

I look down at my light dress and satin shoes, and then I look at him like, Are you nuts, boy?

He ignores my look, so I say, “Are you sure? I don’t think I should go back there. My shoes will get dirty.”

Actually, I kind of whine.

“You have to.”

Oh, really? I think.

This is ridiculous. It makes no sense. Why would Phillip get me all gorgeous, buy me a beautiful dress, and then send me out into the dirt?

Then, it dawns on me why I’m here.

Our first kiss. Oh, that’s so sweet.

He must be meeting me here.

I run down the dirt path that curls around the building, not even worrying about my shoes. I expect to find Phillip waiting for me on the swings, but I am disappointed to see only a boy swinging. I walk over, sit down on the swing next to him, and sigh.

Hopefully, the swing doesn’t get my dress dirty.

“Now what?” I mutter to myself.

To my surprise, the little boy stops swinging and says, “Here.” He hands me a little wrapped package and runs away.

I look around in all directions, figuring Phillip is bound to turn up. But he doesn’t, so I open the package. Inside is another charm—a swing. How cute.

I add it to the bracelet and figure, What the heck? I’m already sitting on it; swinging on it isn’t going to get me any dirtier.

So, I start swinging, and pretty soon, I’m swinging as high as I can. I close my eyes and let my stomach go all fluttery. I’m really enjoying myself until I hear that damn limo driver honking his horn at me.

I’ve already had about enough of his rude honking.

Maybe I’ll have a word with him when I get out there. But, as I walk back, I decide I look much too beautiful to get all pissed off, so I just get into the limo.

We don’t go very far because our next stop is Phillip’s house. Finally, I get to see my date. Unfortunately, when we pull in the driveway, I notice that Phillip’s car isn’t there.

Shoot.

The Nazi limo driver comes around again, opens my door, and says, “Go inside.”

Doesn’t this man know that I hate being told what to do?

I swear, if I wasn’t relying on him for my transportation, I would tell him to knock it off! I look straight at him and scream, KNOCK IT OFF, in my mind, and it makes me feel a little better.

I barely get to the front door when it swings open to reveal Phillip’s parents.

“Oh, JJ!” Julie cries. “You look beautiful!”

I notice that she and Mr. Mac are very dressed up.

“Wow! You guys look great yourselves. Where are you going, all dressed up?”

“Oh, there’s a fundraiser at the Piedmont tonight. We’re just getting ready to head there,” Doug tells me.

The Piedmont?

“Did you know Phillip and I are having dinner at that hotel?”

“Um, uh, no, we didn’t. The View is a wonderful restaurant though. I’m sure you’ll have a great time, dear. This is for you,” she says, thrusting a box into my hand and deftly changing the subject.

I open it and there—surprise, surprise—is another charm. This one is a heart with little red stones scattered around the edges.

“Thanks,” I say.

Before I can hug her, Mr. Mac hands me another box. I open it. It’s a red capital N—for Nebraska football.

“I love it,” I say and give them both big hugs.

“Oh, JJ, I wish your mother were here to see you tonight,” she gushes and looks like she’s going to cry. “You look just perfect.”

That’s nice, but come on, people, it’s a first date. We probably don’t need to go getting all emotional just yet. I know Phillip is going to a lot of trouble, but, um, how ’bout we get past, like, the second date before we go getting all teary-eyed.

She gives me another hug just as the Nazi limo driver honks his horn again.

“That’s my ride. And he’s so polite. Um, do you guys know if I’m ever going to see my date? Did Phillip tell you where he’s meeting me?”

“Oh, Doug, look at the time,” Mrs. Mac says, glancing at her watch. “We’ve got to get going.”

They hustle me out the front door and into the limo without answering my question.

I lean back in my seat, let out a big sigh, and decide to have some more champagne.

Is it just me, or are all the Mackenzies acting a little strange about this whole first-date thing?

Is something going on here?

I feel like I’m missing something. It’s nowhere near my birthday. And it’s not like they are coming on our date. Surely, he wouldn’t have invited them. No, he said romantic. I must just be paranoid. They are simply excited that Phillip and I are finally together. And that’s a nice thing. I wouldn’t want to have in-laws who didn’t like me.

God, there I go again. Actually thinking about marrying Phillip. Although I guess it’s not that big of a deal. I remember, in high school, always trying on a boy’s last name to see if it sounded okay. If it fit. Trying on a last name is very important because you wouldn’t want to fall in love with some guy, only to find out that your name would end up being something weird or all rhymey like Mary Barry—or worse, something gross like Jenny Tayla or Amanda Lick.

Okay, so let’s see. Just for fun.

Jadyn Reynolds-Mackenzie.

No. Too long.

JJ Mackenzie.

Jadyn James Mackenzie.

Not bad. Doable, I’d say.

All of a sudden, the driver stops the car. I look out to see that we are … uh, where are we? I peer out the windows in all directions and determine that we are … definitely in the middle of nowhere.

Like, all I can see is a gravel road and lots of corn.

Great. The limo driver is probably some psychotic serial killer, and now, he’s brought me out here to finish me off. Just as I’m thinking about my options, he startles me by lowering the window separating us. It’s been up the entire trip.

Crap.

My purse wasn’t big enough for pepper spray. Now what?

I smile at him sort of nervously. He smiles back and hands me a little box.

I open it and see that it’s a cross charm.

I look outside again and realize that this is probably the exact spot where Phillip pulled off the road and yelled at me before his dad called us on the night my parents died. Well, actually, I might have yelled at him.

Hmm.

Not a particularly happy memory, but a strong one nonetheless. And definitely a time in my life when Phillip was there for me. He was my rock. I don’t think I could have gotten through it without him.

I feel the car go forward as the driver rolls the partition up.

Yippee. Maybe he’s not going to kill me.

We drive for about half an hour. I can see that we are going back toward Omaha, and it even appears we are headed downtown.

Hopefully to the Piedmont and my date.

I look at my bracelet full of charms and think, This is nice and all, but doesn’t it seem like a bit much for a first date?

Actually, it seems like a bit much for any date. Although I don’t think I could even categorize this as a date yet. Because, technically, it takes two people to have a date, and I refuse to count the limo driver.

This has been more like a scavenger hunt.

Not exactly the romantic evening I had in mind.

Maybe this thing with Phillip isn’t going to work out.