"If you've changed your mind, that's okay." His voice remained easy and matter-of-fact. "I don't want you doing anything you're uncomfortable with."
The offer caught me off guard. There was no frustration in his expression. No sign that he'd feel cheated or annoyed if I decided to leave. He was simply giving me an out.
I looked ahead again as we reached the corner and waited for the light to change.
The sensible thing would be to thank him for a surprisingly good birthday, go back to my apartment, and spend the rest of the night convincing myself I hadn't missed an opportunity.
I couldn't remember the last time meeting someone new had felt that effortless.
The attraction was part of it, obviously. I wasn't blind. Thane was ridiculously good-looking, and I would have needed a serious head injury not to notice.
That wasn't the reason I kept walking.
The reason I kept walking was that I wasn't ready for the evening to end.
"No," I said finally. "I think I'm good."
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "You think?"
"I reserve the right to panic later."
His laugh warmed the cold night air between us. "Fair enough."
The light changed, and we stepped off the curb together. I still didn't know where the night would lead.
What I did know was that I wanted a little more time.
As we crossed another intersection, a burst of laughter spilled out from a crowded sports bar on the corner. Several televisions hung above the bar inside, their bright screens visible through the front windows. I barely glanced in that direction before looking away again.
Thane did not.
His attention flicked toward the televisions, lingered for a second, and then returned to the sidewalk ahead of us.
I frowned slightly.
"You okay?"
His gaze shifted toward me.
"Yeah. Why?"
I shrugged. "You looked distracted for a second."
Something unreadable passed across his face before it disappeared. "Just thinking."
We had barely gone another block when a man approaching from the opposite direction slowed. He glanced at Thane, looked away, and then did a double-take before continuing on. Whatever recognition had sparked in his expression, he kept it to himself.
The entire exchange lasted only a few seconds. Still, it left me with the distinct impression that there was more to Thane than he was telling me. Before I could decide whether to ask about it, he nodded toward a building across the street.
"We're here."
I came to an immediate stop and followed his gaze.
The hotel rose several stories into the night sky, its entrance framed by elegant white lights and enormous decorated trees that probably cost more than my first car would someday be worth. A uniformed doorman stood near the revolving doors, and through the glass I could see polished marble floors gleaming beneath crystal chandeliers.
I was pretty sure you could fit half my apartment building inside that lobby and still have room left over for the Christmas tree. Not a single light bulb was burned out. That alone made the place feel expensive.
Suddenly, "I play hockey" felt like a very incomplete answer.
