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“Great. What do you say to dinner? Maybe some drinks after at your place? Mine is still kind of a mess.”
“Sure. Do you like steak? There’s a great steakhouse downtown.”
“Steak sounds perfect. What time should I be ready?”
“How does seven sound? I can pick—”
“I’m driving you,” Tate interjects.
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “I have to have my dad drive me. But I can meet you there at seven. How does that sound?”
“Great. Sounds great.”
“Cool! Send me the details, and I’ll see you tonight. Can’t wait. Bye.” I sport a smile as I stare out the window.
“You’re wasting your time if you’re going out with him to make me jealous.”
I twist in my seat. “And why would I care about making you jealous?”
“You don’t like that guy. What other reason do you have?”
I scoff. “I totally like him. And I couldn’t care less what you think. Our situation is clear. But a woman has needs, and tonight, he’s going to fulfill those. If that bothers you, maybe you should stay home.”
His mouth perks into a half smile. “I’ll be ready at seven.” What the hell is so funny about this? I scrunch my nose and turn my head.
The lingerie shop is a total bust. Nothing I try on fazes Tate. He barely looks my way or at the clothes I choose. And by clothes, I mean lace, strings, and leather.
When we get back to the hotel, I hole myself in my room to attempt a good rub down and fail miserably. All I picture is Tate’s face, and that’s something I want to scratch from my memory. Even more frustrated than before, I get ready, inspect myself in the mirror, and head downstairs.
“Ready. Hurry up. I don’t want to be late.” Tate is on the couch. He stands, skimming his eyes over my outfit, but bears no reaction. “Last chance to back out. I can always take an Uber.”
“Let’s go.”
The silence on the ride to the restaurant is unbearable, and I want to slap him.Why? Because he’s not into you?For starters. And for lying to himself. The penthouse has started to feel like a minefield. One tap, lick, or brush, and we’re both going to detonate. This little act of his is stupid, just like his willpower.
Tate pulls up in front of the restaurant, and I spot Vince standing at the entrance.
“Try to enjoy yourself. Flag me down if you need an escape,” Tate says, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Why would I need an escape?”
“This guy’s gonna be boring as hell. I bet you don’t make it through appetizers.”
“Watch me.”
“Oh, I will be.”
“And we won’t be doing much talking later, so it’s all good.”
He lets out a low laugh, making me angrier. “Bullshit. I doubt you even kiss him.”
“You wanna make a bet?”
“Don’t need to bet, babe. I saw the way he kissed you last time. It was painful to watch. Can’t imagine how painful it was being the one he was kissing.”
I gasp at his insult. “He was a great kisser.”
“Whatever you tell yourself. Kiss him again and tell me you enjoyed it with a straight face.”
