“Oh, I have,” I say breezily. “It’s just… been a while.” I pop another snail in my mouth and chew, forcing myself to stay calm, wishing my taste buds would shut down.It’s just a snail, I tell myself. It’s not like I’m eating an eyeball or, say, the fetus of a small mammal. But who knows? They could be next.
Each mouthful is followed by a healthy slug of champagne, and somehow—God knows how—I manage to get the snails down. Then I push my plate away, delicately dabbing at the corners of my mouth with my napkin. That was horrendous.
When I glance up, Shane is giving me another sexy smile, and guilt swirls through me. So I had to eat a few snails on our first date? Big deal. This can just be a funny story we tell one day.
Our second course arrives, and I’m overcome with relief when I see it’s steak—just normal, run-of-the-mill, old-fashioned beef. No frogs’ legs, no tentacles—not a sea creature in sight. And it’s good.
After dinner, we wander out onto the terrace to overlook the city. It’s beautiful; the Empire State Building glittering in the blush of dusk, the distant hum of traffic a familiar soundtrack, the warm evening air reminding us we’re on the cusp of summer. Shane turns to me, pulling me close, and before I have a chance to take a breath or grab a mint, his lips land on mine in a warm kiss.
And it’s… nice. I don’t know if it’s the snails, or the fact that I’ve had a few glasses of champagne or what, but it’s more of a slow-burning kiss than a fireworks-exploding kiss. But that’s okay, because—assuming he wants to see me again—we have plenty of time to get there.
When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his cheeks are a little flushed. God, he is one good-looking guy, I’ll give him that.
“You want to come back to my place?” he murmurs, sliding his hands down to my waist.
I inhale, drawing on my reserves of self-control. It’s been a good year since I last had sex, and Idowant to go back to his place. I’d be quite happy to enjoy that gorgeous body of his for a few hours.
But I’ve got my eye on a prize here. I’ve got the endgame in mind. And I know that sleeping with a guy on the first date is a sure-fire way to mess things up. That’s why it’s one of my rules.
I make myself take a step back, tilting my face up to his and pulling out my well-rehearsed speech. “I like you, Shane. I’ve had a nice time tonight. But I don’t go home with guys on the first date. I’m looking for something more, and I hope you are, too.”
He folds his arms, considering this. It’s at this point that a guy does one of three things: throws his hands up in exasperation and takes off; pretends he’s okay with it but totally ghosts me later; or genuinely understands and respects it. The latter is hard to come by.
But Shane nods, giving me a sincere smile. “Okay. You’re going to make me work for it. I can respect that.”
I stand up on my toes to give him a quick kiss. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
He eyes me for a moment longer, then places his hand on the small of my back, gently steering me inside toward the elevator.
“Thanks for this evening,” I say, once we’re out on the street. “It was great.”
“It was.” He pulls me close for another kiss, and his breath smells like the banana mousse he had for dessert. “I’ll text you soon.”
As we part ways and I head toward the Fulton Street subway, I can’t help but grin. Shane is basically the embodiment of everything I want in a man—and he doesn’t break rule number three. I’m excited to do this again.
You know, without the snails.
11
“Any more disaster dates?” Alex asks over her glass of wine.
I pry my eyes away from the bar, where Cory, Eddy and Josie have been slammed all evening, and lean back against the booth. “No. Actually, I had a great date last night.”
“Ooh!” Geoff leans forward. “Tell!”
“His name is Shane. He’s tall, hot—”
“Picture!” Geoff cries, reaching for my purse.
I laugh and pull my phone out, bringing up Shane’s picture. Geoff and Alex lean over the screen in stunned silence.
“Holy shit,” Geoff whispers. “Heishot.”
Alex nods vigorously. “Good work.”
I can’t help my big grin. “He took me to La Bouffe—you know that restaurant downtown that’s on the sixtieth floor?”
“Wow.” Alex’s eyes widen. “I’ve heard about that place. Was it amazing?”
