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Imani hurried out the front door in a silky pink dress that hugged her petite body and complemented her dark skin. I slowly blew the smoke out of my mouth and stared at her, unable to pull my gaze away.
Fuck.
“You ready?” she asked after a couple moments.
After shaking myself awake from the damn trance, I tossed my cigarette onto the pavement and stomped on it with the tip of my dress shoe, and then I nodded toward my car. I slipped into the driver’s seat and stared right ahead at me.
If I looked over at her, I … fuck, I’d want her now.
Instead of ruining everything, I drove toward downtown.
“Where are we going?” Imani asked me as I parallel parked on the busy downtown streets where restaurants usually cost more than even the ones in the city a couple hours away. She glanced around with her brows furrowed. “Are you sure you want to go down here? It’s expensive.”
“Get out of the car,” I said, shoving my door open and stepping out into the snow.
Imani shuffled out onto the sidewalk, and I quickly snatched up her hand in my larger one. My heart pounded inside my chest. This was what people did on dates, right? They held hands and shit?
Tensing briefly, Imani glanced down at our hands and intertwined her fingers with mine.
“It’s expensive down here, João.”
“Just your taste, right?” I asked.
Imani stopped in the middle of the cold-ass street and stared up at me through wide eyes. “I’m fine if we just go to the movies or literally eat McDonald’s fries in your car. We don’t have to go to some restaurant like this.”
Staring down into her big brown eyes, I wondered how someone who had millions of dollars to her family name could grow up to want fries and ketchup on a date. Most girls like her wanted more than something that simple.
After sucking in a breath, I grasped her hand tighter. “I want to bring you out. Come on.”
Once I pulled her to Harleen Steakhouse, I nodded to Blaise Harleen—Redwood’s skateboarding punk—who leaned against the hostess station, flirting with one of the girls from Redwood Academy.
When he saw me, he pushed himself off the counter and nodded to me. “Finally made it.”
Blaise might’ve been from a rich family whose family owned this place, but he didn’t act picture-perfect and stuck-up like the rest of them. He hung by himself and only really came around when he needed some weed, but he wasn’t a dick. Plus, he owed me a favor.
“Thanks for getting us in.”
“Two for João Rocha,” Blaise said to the hostess, knocking on the counter and grabbing his coat to head out. “We’re even now, João.”
And with that, the hostess grabbed two menus and headed toward the seating area. Imani glanced back at me and followed her through the crowded restaurant, and I hesitantly followed her, knowing that this was the beginning of a long night.
