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What? What had he asked?
He gave me a slow nod. “Evening, Isabel.”
“Hi, Danton.” Why he didn’t simply call me Izzy like most people, I didn’t know.
His brow pinched. “You meeting someone here?” he asked, sounding surprised. He probably thought I was here for Ryland and, given the recent media shitstorm, had no clue why I’d bother with the prick.
“Yes,” I replied. “Cole Delaney.”
His frown smoothed away. “We’ll wait with you until he arrives.” It was a declaration, not an offer.
Really, I doubted that the thought of me sitting alone at the bar would bother him if I wasn’t a friend of Cat’s. Still, I gave him a thankful smile. I didn’t want to be sat here all on my lonesome. But as the minutes ticked by and my restlessness grew, I blurted out, “You two should head off. It’s looking like Cole won’t show.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Danton told me. “He just came off the elevator.”
I turned my head and, yep, there he was, his sharp ultra-blue eyes scanning the lounge. My insides relaxed, and the tension slipped out of my muscles. He clocked me sitting at the bar, his lips hitched up slightly, and he made his way toward me.
“Told you,” taunted Cat.
I threw her an exasperated look.
“You’ll be all right?” Danton asked me.
“Yup, you don’t need to hang around,” I replied.
He nodded, taking me at my word, and claimed Cat’s hand. “Let’s go.”
She slid off the stool and beamed at me. “Enjoy your night.”
“You, too,” I said as they walked off. I switched my gaze back to Cole, my pulse kicking up at the intent look he wore.
He finally materialized at my side, his gaze warm and satisfied. “You came.”
“As did you.” Even I heard the surprise in my voice.
His brows inched up. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
“I figured it was a possibility. I’m not exactly flying under the radar right now, thanks to the article you’ve no doubt heard about.”
“I heard. The man’s a dick. He has no relevance here.” His eyes bore into mine. “This, tonight, is about you and me.”
I sipped at my drink, aiming to look casual, hoping I wasn’t failing miserably. “And how exactly do you plan for the night to go?”
“Well, it will depend on whether or not you’re up for entering one of the dome’s boxes with me.”
Excitement buzzed along my nerve-endings. “Could be fun. I’ve never used one before.”
“Good. Finish your drink and then we’ll go. There’s no rush.” He leaned against the bar and idly plucked at one of my curls.
I took another sip of my wine. “So what’s the main appeal in the basement for you?”
He twisted his mouth. “This is probably going to sound cold. The truth is … training takes up a lot of my time and attention. I don’t want the distractions that come with relationships. I don’t want to be made to feel guilty for prioritizing my goals.”
“That doesn’t sound cold at all. There’s no reason why you should feel guilty.”
“So I’ve been told by each bed-buddy I’ve had. In the beginning. But it always came to a point where they held against me that I’m so focused on my career. I suppose it’s one thing to be warned that you’ll come second and another to actuallyfeelsecond.”
Maybe so.
