Page 66 of His End Game

But as I think down that road, I’m already heading up the stairs for a shower. This drink is no longer about Shane or me. It’s petty but a part of me wants to see Leo’s reaction.

I swipe the lip gloss stick over my bottom lip and pucker up. Eight o’clock draws closer and I slip into my heels. My phone’s been silent for the last couple of hours, and I manage to push aside the butterflies of what that means. I should have butterflies for the drink ahead with a guy who seems to like me.

It's not until I hear Shane’s truck pull up and go to open the door, that my gloved hand catches my eye.

Leo has plagued my mind for so long, I’d forgotten all about having to deal with someone new regarding my gloves and why I wear them.

He already knows about them, and he still wants to go out with you, a small voice reminds me.

Before I let the freak-out free, I set the alarm and lock up behind me. I’m doing this for myself and most importantly, for my sanity. Or truthfully, I’m doing this because of Leo. I’m so confused.

Shane’s halfway out of his truck when he freezes and lets out a low whistle.

“Holly, you look amazing.”

The blush heats my cheeks and I drop my gaze and concentrate on not buckling over in these heels on the gravel.

He opens the passenger door for me, and I make sure to keep my hands out of his line of sight.

“So, do you mind where we go, or do you wanna choose?”

“I was thinking maybe we could find a bar in the next town over.”

Cocking his brow, he simply nods. “Is there a reason for that?”

Deciding to be open with him from the start, I say, “I’m sure you’ve heard what happened to me. I haven’t seen anyone I used to know since and I’m not good at dealing with people and their questions.”

“I thought for a second you didn’t want anyone to see us out together.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Forget I said anything.”

He turns the radio on low and I’m thankful for the interruption to the silence now hovering between us.

Tal was the last guy I went out with and that shitshow wasn’t even a real date. According to Leo, this is a date and my nerves, not butterflies, are setting in hard. Halfway to Roseville, his phone rings and he throws me an apologetic look before digging it out of his buttoned-up pocket.

“Sorry, but I have to get this. The club could need me.”

“It’s fine.”

He answers and I’m watching him closely, so I notice when he frowns. He holds his phone out for me to take. My glove brushes against his hand as I take it and he doesn’t flinch away.

Pressing it to my ear, I say, “Hello?”

“Tell the prospect to pull over.”

Leo.

This is why he went silent on me over the last couple of hours. He was biding his time till now. There’s no point in hanging up. Shane won’t ignore his next call like I have been.

“Leo said to pull over,” I say, and he does.

“We’ve stopped. Now what?” I snap.

“Tell him I said to give you a few minutes.”

Taking a deep breath, I cringe as I say, “Can you give me a few minutes, please?”

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