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“No.” She wet her dry lips. “Did you…were you speaking in hypotheticals? I mean, that last line. Specifically.”
He shot her a devastating grin and slid out of the booth. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
Grabbing the mostly empty tray, he carted it up to the counter and had the guy box their remaining slices for later. His later, probably. Her pumpkin had to coming soon.
She frowned at the telltale chirp that indicated Ethan texting her phone. Shoot, West still had it in his pocket. She’d turned down the volume a little after the last time she’d replied to her best friend, assuring him she was fine. She’d told him he could just hang out for the night—which, come to think of it, wasn’t very considerate considering he’d driven her up there just to be a good friend. But come on, man. Wasn’t there a friend get-out-of-jail card for this very sort of thing? They should’ve made an arrangement.
Any rockstars seem interested in me, get gone. I’ll make it up to you later. Thanks. Love you. Buh-bye.
West returned to the table with the box of leftover pizza under his arm and cocked a brow. “Ready?”
“You have my phone.”
“I do.”
“You’re not giving it back?” She should protest his exertion of authority over her personal autonomy. She really should.
She would.
Anytime now.
She was almost sure.
The thing was, this way she had an excuse for not responding to Ethan. Coward’s way out? Sure. She’d accept that label tonight. She’d sworn to him that she was fine and could handle herself, and she was of sound mind and horny body. Not drunk or drugged, and reasonably skilled in karate. She could probably handle herself.
Unless West wanted to handle her, and in that case, she’d most likely fling open her legs and toss her panties somewhere south of her dignity.
Pride did not get you laid. Pride got you watching Tumblr late at night and making fun of people who were enjoying their life way more than you.
“I thought about it,” West said after what seemed to be considerable thought. “Then I decided not to. Figured we should have a night to get to know each other without other people intruding. Do you want it back?”
She shook her head yes. “No.”
West grinned and extended his free hand to help her out of the booth. Then he grabbed his soda and his and tossed them into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. “What now?”
They crossed the restaurant and stepped outside into the rain-soaked night, and for a second, her eyes were dazzled by the puddles lit up by the crisscrossing beams of light from passing cars. “What are my choices?”
“Anything.”
“Wow. Really?”
He shrugged. “If it’s legal. If it’s not, we’ll see. I don’t mind breaking a law now and then.”
“Why could I have guessed that about you?” she muttered, taking the pizza box when he would’ve stopped her. She was of half a mind to finish it off while it was still warm.
Glutton. You’ll still want sex even if you stuff yourself until you can’t move.
She glanced up the street and down, weighing her options. Her gaze landed on a lit-up building halfway down the next block. They’d passed it on the way to the pizza joint. “Bowling? Is that bowling?”
“From the name Cosmic Rama, I’m gonna guess yes. That’s your choice?”
Did he sound disappointed or was that just wishful sexing on her part? “For now,” she said, wondering if she was overplaying her hand. “I’ve never done it. It’s on my list.”
“You’ve never bowled? How?”
She shifted the pizza box from one arm to the other and tried not to shiver from the chill. The temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees since they’d gone inside. “Because I spent my formative years having PJ parties with a bunch of private school girls who didn’t consider bowling feminine. I don’t know. Just add it to all the other things I missed.”
“Probably not the worst of it.” He slid her a sidelong glance, then tugged her under the shelter of his arm. Smack dab into his entirely too warm body. Oh, and the muscles. The muscles were quite lovely. “You’re shaking. Cold?”
