A male server comes by, takes our order, and recommends a spiced vermouth to pair with the patatas. I couldn’t tell you what else he says because my head is completely wrapped up in Chloe Dawson, who’s tracing patterns on the tablecloth with her finger.
Is she nervous?
Or maybe her heart is racing, like mine. Maybe she feels the electrical charge between us. I almost jerked away when our fingers brushed earlier.
And this is supposed to be a simple get-to-know-you date.
I’m in deep trouble.
The server leaves, and silence settles between us.
I should ease into this. Play it cool. Charm my way through this conversation.
Instead, I lead with panic. “I think we’re in trouble.”
She blinks. “What?”
“Derek. He blindsided me after practice today. He’s onto us.”
Her eyes grow wider. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he basically accused me of using you to boost my reputation…which is only off base because he doesn’t know how true it really is. We gotta know everything about each other if we’re going to survive the next few events.”
Chloe straightens, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. She brushes her hair behind her ear. “Um, all right then. What do you want to know?”
“Your middle name. How you take your coffee. Your biggest fear. What you do when you’re stressed.” I lean forward. “For starters.”
The waiter stops by, dropping off the patatas and vermouth. Chloe picks at the food, dishing some onto her plate before diving into answering my questions.
“Middle name’s Rose. Chloe Rose Dawson,” she says, covering her mouth with a hand.
“Chloe Rose,” I say, pulling out my phone to take notes. “That suits you.”
She smiles. “Does it? I didn’t like it so much when I was younger. But it’s grown on me the last few years.”
“It does.” I scoop a forkful of patatas and keep going. “Coffee order?”
Chloe’s lips part, but I jump back in?—
“Wait, don’t tell me. I already know this one. Candy cane latte.”
She chuckles a little, and my chest tightens at the sound. “Well, now it is. I used to be all about oat milk lattes, but then—” She stops. Colors slightly. “You bought me that candy cane latte after the coffee shop collision, and I got addicted. So now that’s my order.”
I can’t help but grin. “Maybe I got a little too confident about that one. I think it still counts for a point though.”
She raises a brow. “There are points?”
“Oh, there are always points.” I take a sip of the vermouth. It’s good. Warming. “Biggest fear?” I ask, setting down my glass.
“Being run over.” She says it matter-of-factly.
“Like, literally? By a car? Train? Bus?”
“My family.”
I pause, recalling her words from Saturday night. I’ve gotten used to being a little…invisible.
She’s paused too, looking at me with that vulnerable expression, and it does something to me. Something primal, like when I see an enforcer go after one of the rookies. Even if I don’t like them, I don’t like to see them crushed.
