Dante holds the bike steady again before giving me the okay to hop off. I swing my leg over, steadying myself on the footpeg before putting my foot down. I stand to the side, taking my helmet off as before, and watch Dante.
Admiring him is more like it. He maneuvers the bike, making it look effortless, as if it weighed nothing. He kicks down the kickstand and turns the handlebars slightly, angling the wheel for better balance. He dismounts and joins me, taking my helmet from me and placing it on his seat. “This is the best Irish Pub in all of Boston. The food is to die for.”
“I can smell whatever they've got on the grill now, and it smells heavenly. It’s making my mouth water.” I laugh, and Dante extends his arm for me to take. “You are very gentlemanly. That’s something you rarely see in the modern dating scene.”
Dante chuckles. “What can I say? I’m one of a kind.” He winks, tugging me gently toward the pub, and I follow.
We’re greeted by a hostess who promptly takes us to our table. The pub is on the smaller side, with one area used as a bar and the other as a restaurant. Not many people are sitting at the bar, but several are seated around us on the restaurant side, eating and talking. The hostess hands us menus and disappears back to the hostess stand.
I open the menu and look over the classic Irish-American dishes. A server takes our drink orders, then hustles back to thekitchen.
“Coffee? Are you planning to stay up late tonight?” I ask. “I would be awake until tomorrow if I drank that now.”
Dante chuckles, relaxing back into the booth. “You never know what the night will bring…or who.” He gives me a cocky smile, winking. I can feel my face on fire, and I avert my gaze, trying to hide my smile. Dante laughs harder. “I like seeing you flustered, Luna. I’m kidding. I’m accustomed to late nights due to my job. It’s out of habit.”
Our server returns with our drinks, sparing me the embarrassment. She takes out her pen and paper, turning to Dante. “What’re ya havin'?” she asks, her thick Irish accent catching me off guard.
Dante gestures to me, telling me to order first. The woman shifts her attention to me.“I’ll take the chicken sandwich. Please and thank you.”
Without missing a beat, our server turns back to Dante, a bright smile on her face. A little too cheerful. “I’ll have the burger, medium rare, no onions.”
“Coming right up.” Our server takes our menus, giving me a look before she disappears again. I swallow the bitter taste of my rage down, can’t she tell we’re on a date? What the fuck, no girl code?
Dante leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and folding his hands under his chin. “So, are you enjoying yourself tonight, Luna?”
I shake off little Miss Smiles Too Much and copy his form, leaning forward with my hands under my chin. “I am, but if I’m being honest, I initially hesitated to come out on a date with you because you came on a little strong at the gym.”
Dante chuckles, his tongue dancing behind his teeth. “I was being cocky, wasn’t I? If we’re being honest with each other, it’s because I was hyping myself up to talk to you.”
I roll my eyes, folding my arms, huffing—that cocky ego of his.
“Do you not believe me?” Dante mirrors my huff, foldinghis arms across himself and cocking his head to get me to look at him. Those green eyes sparkle with amusement.
I try to hide my amusement. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I’m a gorgeous woman, and I know that. But in my experience, men will say just about anything to get you to swoon, making them believe whatever they want and falling into their beds by the end of the night.”
Dante bites the inner corner of his bottom lip, leaning forward as he takes my hand in his. “I’m very sorry for the way I acted, Luna. In all honesty, I really did trip off the elliptical I was on when I tried to get my feet moving so I could finally talk to you. Youarea gorgeous woman, and believe it or not, youareintimidating as well.”
I laugh. “So that’s why you made me drop my weights? So you could take the heat off yourself for tripping? How chivalrous of you.” Dante laughs hard, throwing his head back and giving me a full view of the tattoos on his neck. A human skull sat atop the head of a wolf that lined the column of his neck; it was in traditional black and gray, and the precise linework showed that he had taken the time to research his artist before committing to such a beautifully detailed piece.
Our server returns with a full tray, and she sets our food down in front of us. The scent of my chicken sandwich makes my mouth water. “Can I get ya any’thin else?” she says, once again smiling all too much at Dante. But Dante looks to me to answer first. I take this as an opportunity to humble her. I smile up at her, giving her my cheesiest grin. “No, thank you. I thinkwe’regood.”
Dante smiles, shaking his head, and the woman’s smile fades, leaving abruptly to attend to another table.
Good. She got the message.
I start to shake off my jacket when I catch Dante eyeing me again. It sends a thrill through me, and I decide to play it up. I sweep my dark hair off my shoulders, ensuring my fingers graze my decolletage. With his full attention on me, I pick up a single fry from my plate, darting the tip of my tongueout as I take a bite. My gaze meets his, and he’s practically drooling. “Is something wrong?” I ask playfully.
Dante shakes his head, not taking his eyes off mine. “I’m enjoying the view, is all.” He picks up a fry of his own, taking a bite. “You have this grace to you when you move. You remind me of what a real-life angel would look and move like.”
I look down, my face going crimson. He’s better at this game than I am. I pick up another fry. “Are you religious?” I ask, recalling his angel-wing tattoos on his stomach from earlier.
Dante snorts. “No. I grew up attending a Catholic church and school. I’ve spent many years looking up at the Cathedral’s ceilings, so when it comes to angels, I think I’m pretty qualified to judge when I see a real-life one.”
I try not to let his words settle in my brain, but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t feel good to have someone compliment me so unabashedly. I clear my throat, shaking off his flattery. “I’m an atheist. There’s just too much evil in the world for me to believe that there’s a higher power out there that sits by and does nothing. If God is as all-powerful as they say he is, he could fix what was wrong in the world, but he doesn’t, so he’s not omnipotent, and thus he's not real.”
Dante chuckles. “I agree. I thought everyone was pretending in church. I thought it was one big game, and everyone was just playing their part.”
I laugh. “Yes! Exactly. My parents didn’t bring me to church for long, maybe three months, before they realized the church doesn’t follow their preachings.” The mention of my parents doesn’t bring the usual sour mood I feel afterwards; instead, I feel comfortable. I miss them, but at least I know they did everything they could to set me on the right path.
