His hand is a heavy weight over mine. I let him keep it there, forcing myself to relax. “Now that I know what your brother does for work, are you going to tell me what you do?”
“Finn didn’t tell you before he set this up? Risky guy.”
“I didn’t exactly ask a lot of questions. I’ve learned to avoid that so I don’t come in with predetermined opinions,” I admit.
“Fair enough. I’m an orthopedic surgeon,” he says easily, nonchalantly. Like that’s not impressive.
“You’re not lying?”
His eyes crinkle at the sides as he chuckles. “No, Aubrey, I’m not lying. Do you get lied to often on these dates?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
I swallow the sudden ball in my throat and shrug a shoulder. The lace sleeves of this dress are mildly uncomfortable as I lift my free hand to my drink, bringing it back to my lips. Malik watches, his attention focused entirely on me. It’s flattering, and I should be blushing because of it. I want to.
This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. It’s taken forever to find a man who genuinely wants to be here for no other reason than to get to know me and see if there could be another date in the future.
I’d agree to one, too. He’s the nicest guy I’ve been out with in years, and here I am, trying to keep from pulling my hand backand cutting the gentle, warm connection he’s made with our hands because there’s something inside my head that’s telling me that this is wrong.
Despite every sign pointing to yes, I’m here wishing they’d swap directions and give me an excuse to leave with Finn.
I finish my drink and set the glass at the edge of the table. Frustration slithers through me like hot oil as I smile at my date and grapple for some semblance of control over my emotions.
“Do you live close by?” I blurt out when I try to make conversation. Immediately, I know I’ve tangled that up.
Malik’s eyes widen before he smooths his surprise and shakes his head. “Not really. I’m a bit further west.”
“Right. Yeah, I’m in Coal Harbour.”
“Not too far from me, then. That’s a nice area. I’ve heard your praises from both Finn and my uncle, and I feel like a fool for ever doubting them. You impress me, Aubrey.”
“I live to impress,” I say, laughing awkwardly as I slowly ease my hand from beneath his and pretend to fix my hair. “You’re not shabby yourself. I suspect you hear that all the time.”
He smirks, and dammit, he pulls it off well. “That’s a generous assumption. I’ll stay humble and say I’ve only heard it a time or two.”
Our waiter slips by and grabs my glass. I catch him before he leaves and order another. Two is my limit for work nights, but unless the second eases this weirdness inside of me, I’ll have to make an exception. At least I can handle my liquor well.
Malik leads the next topic as we wait for my refill and our food to arrive. I bounce my leg beneath the table and smile when he says something that I know I should smile at. My mind’s splintering off in a million directions, all of which seem to be drawn to the closed file with Finn’s name on it.
Someone sets a large glass of water beside my martini. I look at the waiter curiously, a bit offended by the assumption, beforeI catch movement from the table three away from where I’m sitting. The blond hair is a mess now, the top sticking up like it’s been tugged on repeatedly since the last time I looked over.
The owner of said hair turns my way, and I stiffen when he stares at the water, then at me in a silent, scowled order. My internal temperature cranks, my frustration boiling over into anger. I push away from the table and offer Malik an apologetic smile as I excuse myself to the washroom.
I move as smoothly as I can through the restaurant, heading for the washroom sign. My skin is hot, burning to the touch. I itch beneath my scratchy sleeves and try to relax.Inhale, exhale.Finn’s just being thoughtful. It wasn’t malicious. This is my wild mess of emotions talking right now.
Yet, despite that reminder, I still want to throttle him.
And the moment I shove the wooden door of the washroom open and it never swings shut behind me, I know I’m going to get the chance.
20
I catchhis rattled reflection in the mirror and whirl around, my lungs inflating to triple their size from the long breath I take.
“What’s wrong?” he asks with a bite to his tone that does nothing but taunt me.
Rolling my eyes, I look away from him. “Oh, I don’t know. Are you sure I don’t just look dehydrated?”
