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No, not Ava. It was me who was the coward for not telling him. She’d only held off because she thought I was embarrassed about the fact that we’d been together. Which I wasn’t.
Then why hadn’t I told Aidan, and the others? I knew the answer to that, didn’t I?
“We’ll worry about it later,” I said. “Get in.”
Twelve
Ava
* * *
In all the years I’d known Dane, from teenagerhood until now, I’d never once seen him wear designer clothes.
It was worth the wait.
I had to play it cool. I couldn’t let on that the sight of him in those perfectly tailored dress pants made me want t
o unzip them, or that his shoulders in that shirt were a girl’s wet dream. I didn’t want him to know how tempted I was to run my tongue along the line of his jaw beneath his trimmed beard, or how the sight of his bare ass walking into the bedroom kept replaying itself in my head.
They say that when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. When I was about to die, I knew I’d see Dane Scotland’s tight, muscled bare ass.
I wasn’t the only one suffering the effects. The hostess at Nobu, who had probably seen her share of gorgeous celebrities, looked a little gobsmacked at the sight of Dane. The second hostess, who led us into our private dining room, giggled softly when Dane hadn’t even spoken a word. She left us with a bow and another giggle, then slid the bamboo door closed.
Dane looked around. Nobu was known as a place where the elite came to have private conversations in a place where they wouldn’t be stared at. There was a main dining room in the front, but the back half of the restaurant consisted of small private dining rooms, lit with paper lamps and closed off by bamboo doors. There was a low table, made for eating while sitting on the floor, and the floor was lined with tatami mats. It was private, but through the bamboo we could hear the murmured conversation in the dining room next door. Nobu was a place of hushed, respectful conversations, spoken civilly over expensive portions of food.
I thought Kaito Okada, the former sushi mogul, would like it. But it was best for Dane to do a practice run first.
“What is this?” Dane said, perplexed. “And why were those women acting so weird?”
“Take off your shoes,” I said, removing my heeled sandals. “It’s what’s considered polite. This is our private dining room. And those women were giggling because you’re hot.”
Dane grunted, caveman-style, as he removed his shoes. That was his only comment about his hotness. “Do we kneel to eat?”
“Yes, or you can sit cross-legged. There are cushions to sit on.”
We each took a cushion and sat on it, cross-legged, facing each other across the table. There was a small button at the head of the table, and when I pressed it the door slid open and a server in slippers came in, pouring us cups of green tea from a fragrant teapot.
“Where do you normally eat?” I asked Dane when the server had left.
“At home,” he replied. In the dim lamplight, his eyes were dark, his cheekbones shadowed. “I order groceries or takeout. I’ve always been able to cook for myself—nothing fancy, but I can do the basics. I’ve had a lot of smoothies since I started working out. Don’t they have menus here?”
“There’s only one meal,” I said. “You eat whatever they serve, and you like it.” I ran a finger along one of the smooth, dark chopsticks on the table. “What about when you’re on a date? Where do you eat then?”
Dane scowled at me. “We’re not talking about that.”
“I’m just curious.” Dane and I had never been on a date. We’d never even been in public together, which was backward considering all we went through. I wondered what Dane was like on a date with a woman who wasn’t me. Was he charming and romantic? Did he try to impress her? Did he even make conversation, or did he just grunt and hope she liked it?
She probably liked it.
Even though this was a paid job and not a date, sitting alone with Dane in this intimate little room, it kind of felt like one. “Who were your girlfriends, anyway?” I asked him.
He was still scowling; I could tell he hated this subject. “There were only two.”
“I know. I never knew you to date all those years ago. I’m trying to picture who they were.”
Dane scratched his beard, thinking. “Well, one of them danced for the Joffrey.”
My teacup clanked to the table. “The ballet?” I cleared my throat. “You dated a ballerina?”
