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I need to get the conversation back somewhere safe. “The way you speak is so effortless, and I can tell you love it.”
A big stupid grin sits on his face. “Thanks. I do very much. I hope you end up loving it too.”
The server brings over our food and leaves. I stuff a fry straight into my mouth.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a burger and fries. A long fucking time, and it’s a shame it’s so good. The way the salt and fat hit my tongue, damn. It reminds me of being a kid with my brothers and having this on Friday nights. It was a tradition.”
I smile at the way he talks about growing up. A part of me is jealous. It wasn’t the same type of childhood I had, but I wouldn’t want anyone growing up in the abusive situations I did. This is part of the reason I don’t want to date a man with a child. “Sounds like another fun, youthful time.” I say smiling. “And I have burgers and fries all the time. What do you mean by a long time?”
He rubs his jaw, and as I watch the languid strokes, it’s hypnotizing. I want to run my hand along his shadow.
“Many years.”
“What?” I gasp with a horrified expression. “Why would you deprive yourself?”
He chuckles deeply at my reaction. “I just haven’t. I don’t know why.”
I stuff another fry into my mouth and chew before saying, “You’re missing out. Nothing better than a good burger and fries.”
“I’ll have to get you to take me, to some good fast food restaurants.”
My soft face falls, and I cough from the fry getting stuck.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asks, picking up the burger and taking a big bite.
I do the same and welcome the beef patty and cheese with a special sauce that has me releasing a moan. “It’s good, right?” I ask after I swallow, trying to push past the fact he spoke about taking me out on a date.
He nods. His nostrils flare, and his stare is both heated and conflicted.
I wash down the burger with some of my drink.
“You never told me you were coming here. Did you come to New York for me?”
I blush crimson and look down before meeting his curious gaze again. “Well, yes, that was part of it, but I did want a job as an architect.”
He offers me a wide smile. “I do remember you saying that.”
I nod, even though I’m still embarrassed. “My professor helped me get the traineeship. I was surprised and thrilled that it was here, and I figured it was a sign.”
“But what’s going on, then? You stopped texting and you seem different.” His brow furrows as he searches my face for answers.
I lower my burger and dust my hands, my heart thundering inside with nerves. It’s time to talk about it, and fuck, I’m panicking. I’m so not ready, but he needs answers. I need to explain and get him to understand why I didn’t respond to him.
I take an audible breath and lean back, looking directly into his curious eyes. “I came to your house.”
He sits up straight, a crease forming between his brows. “When?”
“Sunday.”
“But I was home. What time did you come?”
“I can’t remember, but yes, you were home.”
He scratches his head, totally confused. “So how come you didn’t knock?”
It’s as if a bucket of ice was just poured over me. Do I have it all wrong?
“Your wife and child turned up.”
