A silence, loud as stadium boos, fell over the meal as Kayla gave up trying to talk to me and awkwardly picked up her knife and fork.
I knew I was being a right twat.
If I’d been even half a gentleman, I’d have tried some small talk. But I couldn’t bring meself to open my mouth and at least pretend I was a decent human being who could share a meal with a lovely woman without getting all up in his head about it.
The truth was, all my energy was going toward not looking how I felt.
Which was truly fucking rattled.
Prior to what happened earlier at the window, I’d thought I was the lion, luring the skittish American mouse into my den.
Yet there I sat, as unnerved as a rookie after losing a big game, just completely unable to wrap my head round how poorly I’d performed.
I’d intended to give Kayla a great time. Take her nice and slow after convincing her to commit to our one-nighter over a proper dinner.
Instead, she’d kissed me once, and I’d…
My stomach knotted at the memory of me rutting her against the window, unable to control meself. Like some sort of beast.
Where had the smooth international football star who’d slept with more than his fair share of women been then? Gone. That was where. Disappeared like that Frenchie butler as soon as I got a single taste of Kayla “I know I’m not your type” Edwards.
I angrily sawed off a piece of the veal scallopini and shoved it in my mouth.
Jesus Christ, it was still warm! I inwardly cursed meself for rushing through our first round with enough time left over for Kayla to take a shower without fear of having to eat a cold meal.
What must she think of me now?Mr. Big Talk about how I would rock her universe turning out to be little more than an animal who could barely control himself once he got inside her.
It was her body that did me in, if I’m being truthful. I’d not known what to expect, given the bulky nature of her T-shirt and skirt ensemble.
But underneath all that fabric, I’d found large and lovely breasts, Greek goddess hips, and a derriere so expansive it could barely be contained by the boy shorts she was wearing.
Kayla turned out to be the perfect package, wrapped up in a bright green underwear set. Like a gift of chocolate left over from the holidays. One I'd been excited to consume even after Christmas had long passed.Tooexcited.
I glowered sullenly across the table at her new outfit. It was even worse than the t-shirt and skirt ensemb.
A bulky L.A. Suns hoodie and a baggy pair of zebra-print sweats that hid even more of her delectable body.
Fuck me.Why, oh, why hadn’t I taken the time to fully unwrap before pushing her into that window like some kind of depraved nutter? I hadn’t even given meself the chance to see what her lush breasts looked like underneath that bra.
“Okay, well, thank you for dinner!” Kayla abruptly stood up and threw down her napkin. “It’s time for me to go.”
“Wait, we’re not even done eatin’.” I stood up, too, proper alarmed and dead confused.
“Yeah, I think we’re all done here.” She threw me a right-irritated look over our half-eaten food. “When you ordered dinner, I thought, I don’t know, that you actually wanted to share a meal with me. But you’re barely talking, and I can see now you were just being nice and that I should have left after we…”
She rubbed her hand over her forehead, her irritated look turning into one of pained embarrassment. “Listen, I haven’t dated in a really long time—not that we’re dating. Oh God, I’m so not good at this. I’m sorry. I’m just going to go, okay? Is my bag in that closet?”
She headed toward the main room’s coat closet. “I couldn’t find it inside the one in the bedroom….”
Fuck, this was all my fault. I had to fix it.
“Hold on, Kayla, hold on!”
I rushed over and caught her by the wrist before she could make it to the empty closet where her bag most definitely was not. “Listen. Let me make this shite meal up to you. What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”
“No. No. No.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to offer me breakfast just to be nice. And I should probably be getting back to my hotel anyway. Let me fetch my bag, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
She tried to tug her wrist away.
