“I hope you’re hungry. This place was tough as hell to get a reservation for tonight.”
“Is that right?”
“You bet your sweet ass. I pulled a few strings.” He glanced down at me and grinned.
A chill ran through my entire body and it took all of my good sense to bite down on my tongue and refrain from telling him we could skip dinner and the fight to go back to my place or his. Didn’t matter which as long as it was private. But I couldn’t do that. I held back, trailing Luke, my hand in his as we followed the hostess to our seats near the back of the restaurant.
“It’s quieter back here,” he said as he looked across the table at me, as if seeking my permission or something.
“It’s great. This place can get loud, especially on nights like this where it’ll probably get pretty busy.”
He pushed out a breath, appearing relieved.
Another smile touched my lips.
“Is it awkward that we’re doing this?” I asked, suddenly lowering the menu from in front of me.
His forehead creased. “Doing what?”
I waved by hand between our two bodies. “You and me. Dating.” Realization donned on his handsome face. “You’re not used to any of this are you?”
I was expecting one of his usual smartass comments. The type that always emerged from his mouth when anything got too close to the truth, but instead he answered with.
“Not even a little bit.” He ran his left hand through his hair, making himself look a little less put together, again, another turn on. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing to me.”
My entire body stiffened at his abrupt honesty, and the unwavering stare that accompanied it. His jaw was rigid, dark eyes meeting mine and his words hit me like a ton of bricks. His eyes searched mine for something. A sign that I was out on this ledge with him, maybe?
“For whatever consolation this might offer, you’re kind of doing the same thing to me.” My own words came out above a whisper.
But when Luke was about to respond our waiter interrupted.
“Red wine for me,” I ordered.
“Seltzer water with lime,” Luke requested.
I raised an eyebrow his way.
“No alcohol while training.”
I nodded respecting his decision. Even though the fight was still over three months away, Luke really was taking his training seriously. Not that I hadn’t thought he would, but there’s something incredible about seeing it up close. He even complained less about the dancing lessons I continued to put him through.
“We’re ready to order now,” Luke informed the waiter.
He ordered the mushroom risotto with pan seared broccolini as his side, while I chose the swordfish and steamed vegetables in a buttercream sauce.
“You know the butter essentially defeats the purpose of steaming the vegetables,” he told me as the waiter disappeared.
I tossed him a one-sided shoulder shrug. “Someone’s jealous they can’t have a little bit of butter?”
He gave me a half smile. “Maybe.”
My heart rate increased inexplicably.
“Nice to know I’m not alone,” he finally said after staring at me for a while.
I blinked trying to recall what he was referring to. My chest warmed, remembering our conversation before our waiter interrupted. At least a thousand questions came to mind to ask him. I wanted to know so much more about him, but had no idea where to even start, or how to start without scaring him off. I felt guilty even wanting to ask when I still hadn’t told him my truth as of yet. I chose to go with a safe question instead.
“How’re Jacob and Grace doing?”
