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He took his coffee from the waitress and took a slow sip, keeping his eyes on mine.
“Your name is Christina, correct?” he asked. “You have yet to answer that question.”
“Probably because I was waiting for you to apologize for being late, or for you to ask me to give you a chance to finish this date.”
“There was an important situation,” he said. “And you clearly want to give me a chance, seeing as though you sat here waiting for forty-five minutes.”
Strike one. There’s no way in hell we’re a 99.9 percent match.
I brought my coffee to my lips and took a long sip.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked, finally.
“I own a—” I paused. I wasn’t trying to make this date any longer than it had to be. “I run a small business, and you?”
“I’m honestly not sure anymore.”
Strike two. He’s unemployed!
He stared at me, not saying anything, turning me on against my will.
“Are those all of your questions?” I asked. “Nothing else you want to say?”
“I want to say that you’re sexy as fuck,” he said, his voice low. “And I personally don’t think we should spend any more of our time sitting here talking.”
My jaw dropped. “Did you seriously just say that?”
“I did.” He smiled. “Would you like for me to repeat it?”
I blinked.
“I can ask you a few more questions if you like,” he said. “But seeing as though we’re supposedly a 99.9% match, I think we both know there’s no need for that.”
“Is this how you normally operate on blind dates?”
“This is my first one.”
“How fitting,” I said under my breath. “I think this is my last one.”
“What was that?”
I cleared my throat. “You know what? You’re absolutely right about us not needing to spend any more time talking.”
“Your place or mine?”
“Let me think on that,” I said, forcing my best smile. “Will you watch my coat while I run to the restroom? I’ll have an answer for you once I get back.”
“Fair enough.” He gave me another panty-melting smile, and for a split second, I actually considered giving in to my exploding ovaries instead of my brain.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t plan on going to work tomorrow,” he said, looking me up and down again. “You probably won’t be able to walk when I get finished with you.”
Nope. The brain is definitely winning this round.
I made my way to the hallway, walking past the restrooms and through the private staff exit.
Rushing to the parking lot, I ignored the pain from my stilettos and made it to my car. I cranked the engine and sped the hell away from the café, right onto the winding road that led to my side of Cedar Falls.
The second I crossed the Main Bridge, I called my sister via speakerphone.
“No worries!” she answered on the first ring. “I knew you’d forget the condoms, so I tucked some into the bottom compartment of your purse. Two of them are even peppermint flavored.”
“There is absolutely no chance that sex will ever be happening between me and that asshole, Amy.” I hit the gas pedal even harder. “I refuse to believe that he and I are a ten percent match, let alone a ninety-nine percent one. I also owe you a new coat, since I left yours in the café.”
“Wait, what? Back it all the way up. You were there for an hour, and there were no sparks?”
“He was only there for five of those minutes, Amy,” I said. “He was forty-five minutes late, and he didn’t even apologize!”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. He even had the audacity to say that we should just leave and go have sex.”
“So, he was cocky?”
“Cocky isn’t even the word.” An image of his sexy smirk crossed my mind, and my body betrayed me with a blush.
“Well, was he at least attractive?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t lie about that if I tried. “He was definitely attractive. Beyond that, even.”
“But not attractive enough for you to have one round of meaningless sex? It might’ve been super-hot.”
“Never. If I never see him again, I’ll consider that a win. As a matter of fact—”
The rest of my sentence stalled on my lips as the blaring sound of a police siren came from behind.
I looked in my rearview mirror and saw flashing blue and white lights.
Shit.
“Amy, I think I’m getting pulled over. I’ll have to call you back.”
“You better!”
I ended the call and slowed down, steering my car to the emergency lane.
Sighing, I put the car in park and pulled out my papers to save time. I clicked the “last speed known” button on my digital dashboard and blinked a few times to make sure I saw the numbers correctly.
I was only going fifty-six miles an hour.
I heard a soft tapping sound against my window and rolled it down.
“Officer, I’m not sure why you—” My jaw dropped as I came face to face with Mr. Cocky Bastard from earlier. He was glaring at me, looking as if he was torn between arresting me and fucking me on the spot.
