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Five, six, seven, eight…
I don’t answer him, and he just keeps smirking while we ride the elevator down to the garage level. Once we are out, he leads me toward his Black Range Rover and opens the back door for me.
“Just tell me which restaurant we are going to, and I’ll get there myself,” I tell him, refusing to ride in the same car.
“What’s wrong, Kitten? Afraid of me?”
“Um, no, just don’t want to get STDs from those seats.”
Landon tries to hide his laugh. “Don’t worry, I disinfect after each time.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? No, thanks.” I fold my arms in front of me.
“Lexi, get in the damn car. Now.”
My feet move out of their own will and no, I am not getting inside the car because he used that sexy, authoritative voice and commanded me.
Absolutely not because of that.
Damn it…
I’m not supposed to be attracted to him. Find him hot? Sure! But actually, attracted? No, no, no. Yet here I am, sitting in the back of his car on pristine white leather seats on which he probably fucked hundreds of girls before, driving to have dinner with him at a restaurant.
Am I screwed? Is he turning my brain into mush? Is he making me overthink one-night stands?
Nope.
I will not be one of those girls.
Landon wants to waste his time on me; by all means, go for it. But that does not mean I will “open my legs for him,” as he likes to say.
Song: Minelli – Illusion
We drive in silence, and I shouldn’t be, but I still am surprised when we pull up to my favorite restaurant.Conte de fée. The one I merely mentioned last night during dinner in front of Landon.
Landon Locke has a romantic side to him? Nope, I refuse to buy into that lie. He watches me as the car stops, and his driver comes over to open the door for us.
The restaurant is situated in Manhattan and takes up three floors. Each one is unique on its own and has completelydifferent decorations and menus. I’m curious to see which floor the arrogant and over-confident Mr. Locke picked. I’m sure it’s the second floor, the dark one, the exposed brick, and the sensual ambiance one. It suits him.
But color me surprised once again today when the host sat us on the first floor. The dreamers' floor. It’s the one that looks like a Disney fairytale with a huge, real, and very old tree right in the middle of it with its branches sprawled throughout, seats hanging from the ceiling, and little lights twinkling all over the place.
“Did they not have the second floor available?” I asked him because I’m pretty sure he did not choose this willingly.
This is not him. He doesn’t do sweet or cute, or tender.
Landon looks up from the menu, “No, this is the floor I always request.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “It is?”
“Yes, why are you so surprised?”
“Um, hello? Because this is not your scene?” I gesture around us.
Landon drops the menu and looks up at me. “Pray tell, what is my scene?”
“That’s easy. The dark and twisted. Hell, overall, I did not see you in this restaurant.”
“The dark and twisted? You don’t think I can be a dreamer? A romantic?”
