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I walked Ryan to my car and stopped to open his door for him. Before he ducked inside, I gripped his arm. “Thank you, Ryan. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“No problem. We’re even. Dating advice for gift-giving advice.” He winked and closed the door.
I’m not sure how it happened. I was supposed to be coaching him on how to land a date, and instead, I was the one who’d secured a date withhim. And I wasn’t even upset about it.
11
RYAN
On Friday,I spent a little extra time preparing for my date. I made an appointment at a salon where they buffed my blunt nails to a high shine and my feet were treated to the works—exfoliating scrub, mask and moisturizer, pedicure, and clear polish on my toes. My hair was trimmed, and my face shaved clean and smooth. I felt ready, like my best version of myself.
Carson had encouraged me to wear something sexy and fun, but high-class. I felt a bit like an escort, dressing to fit that description, but in the end, I heeded his advice and chose a silky black shirt and black pants with a lavender pinstripe. I dabbed Chanel Bleu on my throat and left the top three buttons open. William planned on picking me up at my home, and I hoped when he leaned in to greet me, he might press his nose to my neck and nuzzle that scented spot.
With only twenty minutes left until he was expected to arrive, I texted Carson a picture of myself for his approval.
Ryan: I’m ready.
Cary: Damn! You look hot. Now text him that pic of you in the suspenders.
Ryan: I thought you said that was for a second date?
Cary: Trust me. Don’t play games with older men. They like to get right to the point.
I hatedthe queasy feeling that swirled in my stomach as I texted my date a sexy picture of me shirtless. It wasn’t my usual MO, and I second-guessed myself as I hit send. The feeling only heightened when I didn’t receive a reply. Though, to be fair, he was probably driving.
Carson’s warning stuck in my head.Older men don’t like games, they like to get right to the point.Did that mean William was going to rush through the polite formalities of our date so he could get to the seduction scene? I hoped not. I already had reservations about dating someone significantly older than me. This feeling of being a piece of filet mignon waiting to be consumed only increased my qualms.
To avoid being alone with him in my condo, I decided to meet him downstairs in the lobby. I was still fretting when he pushed through the double glass doors and walked right up to me, looking sophisticated and expensive. William leaned in to embrace me as I stood and kissed my cheek. He looked handsome in a white dress shirt and navy blazer.
“Hi, Ryan. You look delicious.”
His voice was smooth and deep, his arms strong as they squeezed me close to his solid chest.
“Thank you. So do you. I mean, you look nice.”
Damn, smooth, Ryan! When I pulled back, I noticed his temples were peppered with gray hairs, giving him a mature, distinguished look. I kind of felt like I was embracing my uncle or one of his friends. It didn’t feel right. As handsome as William was, my stomach didn’t flip in a good way. My balls didn’t tingle. I only felt apprehensive as I followed him to his car.
As we drove, we talked about music and someone he knew that lived in my building. My mind drifted to Carson, wondering if the lounge was busy and if he’d be my server or if he was working the bar instead.
“Ryan!”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“I asked what your favorite drink is.”
His dark eyes were focused on me as we sat at a red light. “Um, I don’t really have one. The bartender usually makes me something new to try each time I go to Limericks.”
William frowned. “How often do you go there? Do you date a lot?”
“No, not until recently.” Shoot, that didn’t sound right. “I mean, I’ve recently started dating using apps and I usually meet in a public place, like the bar.”
“I see. I’ll just order for you, then.”
Ugh! He was definitely a Daddy. Already, he was trying to take over for me. I felt like I was being handled and I didn’t like it.
As we stepped inside Limericks, the cool air and scent of caramel and butterscotch wafted over me, and I immediately felt better, calmer. I was in familiar territory, on my home turf, and my coach was smiling at me from the bar, looking like a dark and troublesome wet dream. The boost of confidence I felt helped me get through the next twenty minutes as we chose our table near the stage. A woman stood in a dark and smoky fog, singing soulful songs in a sultry voice. The piano that accompanied her performance sounded smooth and sexy, drawing me in, beckoning me to ignore my date as I listened more carefully to the words she sang.
I didn’t even realize Carson had approached us until he brushed against my arm with his.
