Willow stared at the screen, disappointed that she wasn't as excited about this as her friend was. She knew she was only doing it because she needed to move on from that one-night stand back in February. It was the first time she had ever done something like that, but he was charming and gorgeous and he screwed her senseless. Twice. She didn't regret any of that.
She did, however, regret googling him while his strong arm was draped over her.
Willow only searched for him one other time. It was a few days after their tryst when she was thinking that maybe she had been too hasty. Maybe she left too quick. Would it be wrong for her to show up at his building again and ask him to dinner?
But she talked herself out of it when she looked him up again and saw that headshot of him looking hot as hell in his football jersey. She also found out he took receivers down so hard they had nicknamed him Thunder.
Yeah, there was no way she would ever have a chance with him again. Better to just be content with her blind date tonight.
Except how could she be content when she ran into the very man she was trying to avoid and he asked her out?
Willow was going on a date tonight because she was trying to forget him, trying to get him out of her system, and he had found her on the sidewalk on her way to that date.
Thatcher smiled and she could only stare. He talked to her and she sounded like a fool. But she still gave him her phone number! Seriously, what the hell had she been thinking?
He was a football player who had dinner with her. And Willow, commodities trader at the Mercantile Exchange, told him she had a crush on Warren Buffett.
She had spent the last few months trying to get all of that out of her mind.
And she just gave him her phone number.
When they got to the corner, she wished he was going her way, wished he was really her date for the night. But he seemed to be going in a different direction. Of course he was. So she pulled herself close to him and kissed him on the cheek before going their separate ways.
Because really, there was no way that Thatcher Kent wanted to go on a date with her anyway. He was just being polite. She wasn't going to get her hopes up and wait for him to call her instead of moving on.
She was a fool, a fool who also had a date tonight. Willow pulled the restaurant's door open a little harder than she should've, taking her frustration out on the door handle. But she pulled herself together just in time for the maitre' d to step up to the podium.
"I have a reservation under Warwick," Willow said.
That was the name her date told her the reservation was under. She figured it was just his last name but hadn't asked.SightUnseen was kind of anonymous that way, and she liked it. She also liked that she couldn't see her date's face on the dating app, and he couldn't see hers. It made it more mysterious. Heck, maybe Thatcher Kent was her date. Weirder things had already happened tonight.
But as she sat down, she remembered that Thatcher could get any women any day of the week. He didn't need a dating app for that. And sure, this may have been the restaurant where she had dinner with him that night, but that's not why she picked it. It was just a good spot near her apartment in case this date turned out to be a creep.
Or did she pick it because this is where she had dinner with Thatcher that night? Nope, that's not what happened. Not at all.
Willow checked her watch. Her date was a few minutes late, no big deal, so she decided to busy herself by looking over the menu to see what the specials were for tonight. She was hoping they had the spicy mussels, which were one of her favorites here.
"Le Loup."
Willow put on a smile and looked up to see her date standing by his chair across from her. He had brown hair, a little scruff, and looked a lot like Thatcher Kent.
Oh fuck. Her date was Thatcher Kent.
She kept her smile plastered on her face, hoping to hide the screaming in her head.
Of all the fucking people on that stupid fucking app that my stupid fucking friends talked me into signing up for, of all those fucking people…
A bemused smile spread across Thatcher's face as he slid his chair out and sat down. Then he leaned on the table and looked over at her.
"Hi, again."
"Uh, hi."
"Hey, good evening!" their waiter said.
Willow blinked several times and looked up at… whatever this guy's nametag said. Her mind swimming with confusion.
"Would you two like to start off with something to drink?"
