“I could eat a horse, after all that excitement,” she promised. “What a game! I don’t remember the last time I saw such a nail-biter. I was really worried for a minute there in the second half. I thought it was going to get away from them, but they hung on.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed. He took her arm as they worked their way into the crowd that was now making its way toward the doors. For a moment he thought she might pull free of his hold, but she allowed it, even leaning into him as the crush of people pressedaround them. He navigated them to the door, pushed it open, and then they were out, disgorged into the moonlight. The sun had still been up when they had entered the stadium, and he grappled for a moment with the disorientation that came along with the world changing when you weren’t paying attention to it.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I know a good steakhouse near here, if you’re up for it,” he said. “We can walk there.”
She nodded. “I’m game,” she said.
He kept hold of her arm, pledging to himself that he would release it if she tried to pull away, but she didn’t. His heart beat a little faster. Of course he’d known—especially after their encounter at the gym—that her resistance to him at the awards ceremony hadn’t been based on anything real. Still, it was great to have confirmation of that fact, and he found himself wondering what else the night might bring. Would he get to take her home with him this time?
He was determined not to ask the question. If it was going to happen, she would be the one to propose it. Even though he understood why she’d told him no before, he wasn’t about to be rejected twice in a row. If she wanted something to happen between them now, she would have to ask for it. Which she would eventually, of course, and when that happened he would happily give her everything she was asking for.
But for now, dinner. They reached the steakhouse and he pulled open the door so that she could go in ahead of him. Approaching the hostess, he bestowed a smile upon her. “Elijah Norcross,” he said. “I have a reservation.”
“You have a reservation?” Stephanie repeated, staring at him.
“Of course. It isn’t easy to get a table at this place.”
“You just asked me ten minutes ago if I wanted to come here,” she pointed out.
“I made the reservation this morning.”
“And what if I had said no?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “What if I had told you I preferred the idea of a taco truck?”
“Then we would’ve gone to a taco truck,” he told her simply. “No big deal. I would have texted to cancel the reservation. But I didn’t think you were going to say no.”
“You never think anyone is going to tell you no, do you?”
He grinned at her. “People usually don’t.”
They were shown to a table. He pulled her chair out for her and she sank into it a little awkwardly, as if she wasn’t used to people doing that. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she didn’t have a lot of chivalry in her life. That would be kind of a shame if it was the truth. He felt bad for her. He would make an extra effort to show her a good time tonight.
The waiter handed them each a menu. “You should order whatever you want,” Elijah assured Stephanie. “It’s all on me. Should we start with some wine?”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
He put in an order for a varietal he knew would be good with their meat. When they had each placed their dinner orders and the menus had been whisked away, he leaned across the table on his elbows and regarded her.
“I’m having a really nice time,” he said.
She nodded. “So am I. Better than I expected.”
“You didn’t think you were going to have fun?”
“Don’t take it to heart,” she told him. “It’s just that… it’s been kind of a long time since I had a really good date.”
Color rose in her cheeks and her eyes dropped to the table in front of her.
“I find that hard to believe,” Elijah said quietly. “Men must be lining up to take you out.”
“Not as many as you’d think,” she said. “And part of it is my fault. I don’t always make the time to go out on dates. I don’t step away from work as often as I should. And then, when I do… well, a lot of guys are disappointing, and I end up regretting it, and that makes it harder to do it the next time.”
“And I haven’t been disappointing?” He grinned at her, reached across the table, and took her hand in his, feeling bold.
“You haven’t been,” she said. “Well… except for when you thought I didn’t understand how basketball worked. That was a little much. Do you always just start from the assumption that women don’t know anything about sports?”
“Most of the women I go out with don’t,” he confessed.
