“Try me.”
Fuck, I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. “Fine, I’ve never been on a date before. Are you happy now?”
“Happy that you told me? Yes. Happy I’m the first man to take you out on a real date? Also yes. But if you’re asking me if I’m happy every other man before me refused to treat you like you deserve? Then the answer would be no. I’m pretty pissed because you deserve the world. But we can pretend this is just dinner if it helps.”
To say my jaw hit the floor would be an understatement. Who the fuck was this man, and why did he make my heart beat out of my chest?
Our food comes out before I can even form a response.Good, I’m starving. I’m pretty excited to try whatever I ordered based on all of the dishes I’ve seen pass by our table. It all looks good. They place down Atlas’s chicken alfredo first and it makes my mouth water. The moment they place my plate down, I know I fucked up.
I don’t know what this is, but it doesn’t look like something I’d enjoy. I’m not a person that’ll send food back just because I ordered wrong so I grab my fork and prepare myself to eat whatever this is. I also don’t want to seem ungrateful by not eating it. I bring the fork to my mouth, preparing to take a bite when I feel his fingers wrap around my wrist to stop me. He takes the fork from me and slides his entire dish in front of me, taking the one I ordered.
“Don’t say anything Chaos, just eat the alfredo.”
I nod my head and mumble a thank you. I don’t know how he knew, but I’m so grateful. It feels like he somehow understands me. The first bite of alfredo is almost orgasmic. I can’t help the tiny moan that slips out. He grumbles something that resembles “fucking hell” under his breath as he adjust himself in the seat, and grips his fork a little tighter. I laugh at his reaction, leaning slightly forward.
Dropping his fork with a clatter and clenching his fist, he glances at my cleavage then back to my lips before settling on my eyes. His eyes look absolutely feral. He looks hungry, sure. But he’s looking at me like he wishes it were me spread across this table instead of his meal. He looks ready to snap, and for some reason, that makes me want to keep pushing his buttons. Knowing I can pull this kind of a reaction from a man like him makes me feel like a fucking goddess.
Game on then. I take another bite and this time I moan on purpose. Iguess that’s the tipping point because the next thing I know, he stands up abruptly and throws enough cash on the table to cover the bill, plus a generous tip. He grabs my arm and drags me after him. Such a shame, I really wanted to finish that food. That’s what I get for pushing buttons.
He seems to be in a rush to get me home because he’s throwing the car in drive before I even have the chance to buckle my seat belt. He peels away fast enough for the tires to squeal, and I already know without looking at the speedometer that he’s speeding. I’m starting to think maybe I pushed too far.
Did I piss him off?
The tension is thick and continues to build, but I refuse to be the one to break it. I know a bomb when I see one.
We arrived back in front of my apartment pretty quickly, but it’s expected, given the fact that he drove twenty miles over the speed limit the whole way here. He walks me to my door with his hand on my lower back. I fish around in my bag for the keys on the way there. As I unlock the door, I’m about to ask if he wants to come in, but before I can even open my mouth, he kisses the back of my head and walks back to his car. I don’t hear his car pull away until after I lock the door behind me.
What the fuck just happened?
Atlas
Her fingers fiddle with the edge of the linen tablecloth. She fidgets in her seat, as if the posh restaurant itself is enough to make her nervous. Like being with me makes her nervous.
I want to grab her hand to calm her down, but I can’t risk moving too fast.
I don’t want to push her.
Her phone vibrates against the table. Normally I would respect her privacy, but when I see that it’s a text from Trevor, I can’t help myself. I quickly scan the text before she notices.She broke up with him?I knew he was in the picture, and I would’ve done whatever it took to win her back, but I’m glad he’ll no longer be an issue.
The moment her margarita hits the table, she drinks it down like its liquid courage.
Would she relax more if I told her my heart already belongs to her?
When the waiter takes our order, she blindly points to a random item on the menu.
She’s probably too lost in thought to notice that she definitely won’t eat it. I know her well enough to know she’ll hate it, but will refuse to send the dish back. So, I order her favorite, chicken alfredo.
I finally break the silence and ask her why she seems so nervous.
It’s a punch in the gut when she tells me this is her real first date. It wrecks me that not a single man has treated her the way she deserves to be treated, me included.
We were seeing each other for months, yet this is still the only time I’ve done this for her.
Add that to my ever-growing list of fuck ups and things I should make up for.
Our food comes to the table and the sour face she tries to conceal confirms what I already know.
I seamlessly swap our plates before she’s able to get a bite of her dish. I refuse to let her eat something I know she doesn’t like.
