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I feel like I’m on display for them, but instead of being annoying, it makes my skin flush with heat from all three of them staring at me like they want to eat me.
Sloan’s dressed up too, more formally than usual. He’s in his standard monochrome colors, black slacks and a white button-down shirt with a black blazer over it, but he looks damned good. The slacks draw attention to his long legs, and the blazer does amazing things for the broad spread of his shoulders. It makes him look classic and effortlessly handsome. His steel-gray eyes are sharp, and just a bit warm with the same heat I feel, and we spend a few seconds staring at each other in silence before he moves.
“Let’s go.” He puts his hand on the small of my back to usher me out.
Just the feeling of the warmth of his hand through my dress affects me, and I swallow hard, feeling my heart almost skip a beat in my chest. I try my best to ignore it, focusing instead on the way Levi and Rory are still watching.
“Have fun, kids!” Rory calls, waving goodbye with the pair of chopsticks in his hand. “Don’t be out past curfew or you’re both grounded.”
Sloan doesn’t respond, and I just snort and wiggle my fingers over my shoulder at Rory.
Then we’re outside and the door is closed behind us, leaving the two of us alone. He leads the way to his car and even opens the passenger side door for me, which has me staring at him for a second as he walks around to the other side.
I wonder if Sloan on a date will be any different from Sloan in every other situation, but honestly, my brain shuts down when I try to imagine any other version of this man.
Still reeling a little, I get in the car, and we head off.
It’s not quite an awkward drive, but it’s definitely not as comfortable as being in the car with Levi or Rory. The music is on low, and I can feel Sloan stealing glances at me every now and then, but he doesn’t say anything. Whenever I look over at him, his eyes are on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests on the center console.
I’ve been in cars with him plenty of times since this all started, but never alone. There’s always been Rory to cut the silence or Levi to lend his laid-back attitude to the atmosphere.
My fingers drum lightly on my knees. I’m not sure whether I should try to say something or just let the silence linger until we get to wherever we’re going. I don’t want to piss him off before I’ve managed to get close enough to get something out of him.
In the end, I just opt to keep my mouth shut to be on the safe side. I’m afraid if I start speaking now, we’ll get in a fight before we even reach our destination.
Sloan takes us to a restaurant I’ve never been to before—and no wonder, because it’s fancy as fuck.
I slide out of the car as he hands his keys to a valet, doing my best not to gape up at the place like an idiot. Even the outside of the restaurant screams wealth and luxury, and it makes me understand why Sloan got me the dress. It’s definitely not the sort of establishment where you can walk in looking like some schlub from off the street.
The hostess who greets us is dressed almost as nicely as I am in a glittery black dress, and Sloan breezes through confirming the reservation like he’s done it a million times before. He probably has. He might be in a gang, and he’s clearly not afraid to get his hands dirty, but he’s also no stranger to power and luxury.
Sloan looks back at me as if to make sure I’m still there, and we follow the hostess to a table in a sort of private nook off to the side of the restaurant. It’s out of view of most of the other diners, giving us a lot of privacy. It’s very intimate, and I swallow hard before taking my seat, getting there before Sloan can do something like pull out my chair for me or whatever.
This is all so unnervingly date-like. And not even a shitty date at some crappy restaurant like I went on in high school either. This is a luxurious, swanky sort of date, and it’s freaking me out.
To go from rarely being alone together to this is such a big change, but I’m determined to use it. I have to. Who knows if I’ll ever get another chance like this?
“Have you been here before?” I ask Sloan, glancing around at the velvet seats and the glittering crystal light fixtures.
“Once or twice, yes,” he replies, busying himself arranging silverware, probably to avoid looking at me. At least he seems a bit unsure, too.
“With other women?” I ask, arching a brow.
He gives me a flat look, something sparking in his eyes. “What do you want that answer to be?”
I shrug and honestly, I’m not really sure. It’s unrealistic to think he’s never been with anyone else before, and I’m not even sure why I care one way or another when this isn’t real. It’s just something I have to do.
“I’m just curious,” I tell him. “It’s not like we know each other all that well.”
Sloan nods, conceding the point. He doesn’t offer to let me ask him things, but he doesn’t tell me not to either, so I decide to see how much I can push it and figure some things out about him.
“What’s your favorite thing on the menu?” I ask, starting with something easy.
“Prime rib,” he answers. “With the mashed sweet potatoes.”
“Sweet potatoes? You don’t seem like the type to like sweet potatoes.”
He snorts. “You don’t know what type I am.”
