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And the thing was, it was true. She wouldn’t judge him for…well, anything. And that was so refreshing and amazing that he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Or her. He opened the bag, his mouth watering. “I’m going to have to do double time at the gym tonight after this, but it’s worth it.”
“Is that when you work out?” she asked, dropping a fry into her mouth. He couldn’t look away from her lips. “At night?”
“Yeah.” Clearing his throat, he pulled his own meal out. “I do it before bed.”
She swallowed. “Where do you go?”
“My place.” He opened the lid of his cheese fries. “I have a gym there.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you do. I should’ve guessed.”
They fell into companionable silence as they ate. By the time they finished, he felt a hundred pounds heavier, but more satisfied than a college kid after a night in a strip club. If someone had told him he’d eat Wendy’s on a date with his fiancée, he’d have laughed till he fell over.
Yet, here he was.
“Thanks for the dinner,” he said, wiping his hands off with a napkin.
She did the same, grinning. “You’re welcome.”
So. First tip? She liked Wendy’s. Not expensive restaurants. “Now that we’ve stuffed ourselves…” Looking outside, he tried to figure out where they were. They were approaching Penn Station, heading down Eighth Avenue. “What’s next?”
“This.” She handed him a beer. His mother had always said it was a poor man’s drink, and he was never to be seen with one in his hand. He didn’t agree, but he also refused to give her yet another thing to bitch about. “Drink up.”
He tightened his hold, remembering how much he’d enjoyed beer, once upon a time. “Where did you find out about this?”
“That you drink the best wines and whiskeys in public, but truly prefer a twenty-bucks-a-case bottle of beer?” She lifted hers to her lips. “Oh, I have my ways, Benjamin.”
He studied her, lifting his own beer to his mouth to take a swig. It meshed well with the Wendy’s he’d just eaten. He’d asked her to show him what she liked in a date,
and instead of taking him to some pottery exhibit or boring art exhibit—she was giving him everything he liked instead. It didn’t make any sense. Why would she do that?
Why would she care?
Lost in thought, he swished the beer in his mouth before swallowing. “Let me guess.” He swirled the amber liquid in the bottle. “Our destination is a place that most people wouldn’t suspect I like to go to, but you somehow discovered it.”
Her lips twitched, and he saw those blue flecks in her eyes that he’d come to crave more than anything else. “Fine. I’ll tell you. We’re going to the Rangers game.”
Jesus. She’d done her homework, all right. If he wasn’t aware it was what she did for a living, it might’ve creeped him out. He understood now why she’d been upset at his botched attempt at a date Saturday night. It was painfully clear that she’d put a shitload of thought into this outing, into the things he’d like, and all he’d done was take her on his generic first date—and he’d assumed she’d be just as lost in his charm as other woman always had been. Maggie was a special kind of woman.
The kind who cared more about his fun than hers.
He swallowed hard, shame churning in his gut. “Let me guess. You found out because you’re just that good?”
“Nah. That one was easy to figure out all on my own,” she said, laughing. “You have a puck on the corner of your desk.”
And that made him feel even worse. She was so much better at this than he was. He was used to skating through life without a care, getting what he wanted from people with a snap of his fingers, and he’d dared to treat her like the rest of the people in his life.
He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
A few hours later, in the last seconds of the game, Benjamin shot to his feet, a beer clasped precariously in his left hand. The opposing team had slammed a Ranger into the wall, and a fight broke out. “Get the piece of shit!” he shouted, laughing when the Ranger knocked the other guy to his ass. “Fuck yeah!” As soon as the words left his lips, he looked at Maggie. “Sorry. So sorry.”
She laughed. When she was chilly and rosy, she had freckles that danced across her nose and cheeks. “You can shout curses in front of me. I won’t faint.”
People started clearing out of the arena, but he didn’t move. Neither did she. Truth be told, he didn’t want the night to end. It had been…fun. So much fucking fun it was almost like a dream. Like he’d fallen asleep at his desk and would soon wake up with his head resting on a stack of reports, instead of having Maggie at his side.
If that was the case, he didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to stay where he was.
He enjoyed hanging out with Maggie, and if they got up, it would be over. She’d go home, and he’d go home, and he’d be alone in his apartment, like always.
