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This was such a mistake.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to call me back,” Drake says with a mock pout that’s probably supposed to be cute. Maybe it is. I don’t even know.
I’m trying to pay attention to him. To this gorgeous steakhouse that should really be the backdrop to a perfect date. But all I can think about is the look on Axel’s face when I told him who I was going out with tonight. The way his eyes had gone hard and the muscle in his jaw started to jump.
For a beat, I’d thought he was going to tell me not to go.
Some self-sabotaging part of me might have even wanted him to. But then he’d given me a stiff nod and stepped back, telling me to have fun before heading into his room for the rest of the afternoon.
I got ready.
Started questioning what I was doing.
Realized I had no business going out with Drake or anyone else and was about to text to cancel when Axel finally emerged. I don’t even know what he wanted, because then he noticed some stain on his shirt and whipped the thing off.
And God, my mouth is actually watering, not from anything in this incredibly nice restaurant, but from the memory of Axel’s bare chest. The way his muscles shifted and flexed as he tossed the shirt in the laundry.
One look at Axel in his low-riding athletic pants had sealed my fate for the evening. I needed to get out of that apartment, or I was going to do something I would regret.
Like jump him.
“I know that look. Dessert cart, right?” Drake asks, peering around the restaurant and drawing my attention back to the now.
“Oh, right… yes.” I nod, heat pushing into my cheeks.
Bad, Nora. Bad.
“Don’t worry, you can get one if you like. My treat.” Drake reaches across the small table for my hand. He leans in for more eye contact, and it takes everything I have not to pull back.
“Nora, I like you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since we met.” He strokes a finger under my wrist. Ick. “I feel like we have a connection.”
I blink, and this time, I give in to the need to put some distance between us. Politely. I hope.
Considering this is the third actual date I’ve been on in my life, I’m no expert on romance. But I can say with one-hundred-percent certainty that whatever connection he’s feeling is one-sided.
This was such a mistake.
“There’s something I should probably have mentioned before.” I clear my throat, giving him an apologetic smile. “I’m moving to France in two months.”
His head cocks, brows arching high. “Really?”
“Yes. My old boss asked me to help her start her business over there.”
“Mmhmm.” He reaches for my hand again. “You’re not looking for a relationship, then.” Biting his lip, he gives me a look that makes me feel like I need a shower. “Just looking to have some fun over the next couple months. Baby, I’msoglad you thought of me.”
It’s at this moment I understand why the single women in all those shows have the friend that calls or texts midway through the date with some feigned emergency, in case a convenient escape is needed.
Caroline would have done it.
Heck, based on the way Axel reacted, I’m pretty sure he would have been happy to fake a flood or kitchen fire for me. As it is, I’m on my own.
“Umm, that’s not—”
There’s a small commotion behind me, and Drake’s eager expression shifts to confusion as he looks past me. “What the—”
And that’s when I feel it, the low charge skimming across the backs of my shoulders, the awareness.
The connection.
